#<- as someone who dyed their own hair and failed miserably

[justtrashperson]

I am not immune to the blue haired Richie idea

[much-obliged-timothy]

June of Doom #24

Devil May Cry - #24 - Bleeding Out

*

“Heya, kid!” Dante called as he entered the garage.

He froze, taking in the wreck of the place. Blood splattered along the floor in an alarming amount. There was no sign of Nero.

“Nero?” he said, stepping forward cautiously, hand going to one of his guns just in case.

He heard a groan from under a pile of wreckage. He rushed forward, shoving things aside to reveal a bloodied Nero. His arm was violently torn, blood pouring from the stump.

“Nero!” Dante said in alarm, yanking his coat off and pressing it desperately to the stump of Nero’s arm. “Nero, hang on. You’re gonna be just fine, kid. Making a mess you’ll have to clean up later, but you’ll be fine.”

Nero gripped Dante’s shoulder weakly with his remaining hand. “H-Help. H-Hurts.”

“Yea, I figured,” Dante said, his heart slamming. “But it’s fine. You heal pretty fast.”

Nero threw his head back and groaned again, whimpering as he squirmed in pain. Dante brushed his hair back, putting more pressure on the wound as blood stained his coat. There was too much of it. He didn’t know how to stop it.

He didn’t know what to do.

And then Nero fell still beneath him.

He stared for a long moment, waiting for the rise and fall of Nero’s chest. It did not come.

“Nero?” He shook the boy. Nero’s body only rolled lifelessly, his skin deathly pale. The only color was the blood soaking into his clothing.

“You failed him.”

Dante spun around. Vergil stood there, as deathly pale as Nero.

“You let my son die, just like you let me die,” he said.

Dante turned back to Nero, gripping his shoulders and shaking him roughly. “Nero? Nero, wake up. Wake up! Please wake up!”

Nero did not wake up.

But Dante did.

He jerked upright on the couch, sucking in a startled breath. The room was dark and cold, the fan spinning lazily overhead. Rain tapped against the windows, casting dripping shadows on the floor thanks to a single street light outside.

Dante scrubbed away the cold sweat claiming his forehead. His heart was thudding against his chest.

“It’s fine. Kid’s fine,” he muttered, raking his hands through his hair. “Kyrie said they got him stabilized. Snap out of it; just a nightmare.”

Kyrie had called him earlier, distraught as she explained the attack on Nero. He was hospitalized, out cold but stabilized for the time being. He would wake up to the reality of having lost his arm in the attack. 

But he had nearly died. If help hadn’t come fast enough, he would’ve bled out. Kyrie was honestly surprised, and greatly relieved, that he hadn’t.

Someone had almost murdered Nero. Dante nearly lost him.

The last family Dante had, nearly dying while he just minded his business in his own home. Had Dante put a target on his back by encouraging him into the Devil May Cry business? 

Dante got up, unable to sit still any longer. He paced to the window, pushing up the blinds and looking out on the rainy, miserable night. 

Nero was barely more than a kid. A good kid, too, despite the hardships life had thrown at him. He was strong and compassionate. Brash but caring. He had such a good heart in such a bad world. The last thing he deserved was more pain. 

Dante clenched his fists, frustrated that there was nothing he could do to help Nero. No one saw the attack; Nero had kept them out of the garage to protect them. Typical Nero.

But it meant that no one knew who or what attacked Nero. Kyrie had only heard the crashing and Nero’s agonized scream. Nico was the last one to see him before the attack, and she said she hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary before she went inside. 

They were fairly certain his arm had been torn off, not cut off. It wasn’t a clean severance, they said. Some monster had torn his arm from his body while he was still conscious, then left him there to die in agony. 

Rage slithered through Dante at the very thought. Nero had just been working on his car and preparing to eat dinner with his loved ones when someone came in, viciously attacked him, and left him for dead without a care in the damn world.

Whatever heartless monster had attacked Nero, human or demon, Dante hoped he found them so he could make them pay. And if something happened and Nero’s condition deteriorated, if the worst outcome became a painful reality and Dante lost his nephew, there was not a force in the human or demon world that could protect the attacker from Dante’s wrath.

[girderednerve]

i am cringe but i am free

i am losing my fucking mind about vegeta dragonball, which is ridiculous. i know it is ridiculous. i am losing my mind about vegeta dragonball anyway. he's the worst. he's the original manlet. he's like if rage had legs & pointy hair. i hate him. he's the only man to me

the thing to me is that he's actually very brave, but it's a horrible kind of courage where he's running risks that no one else sees—goku has a very noble kind of bravery, he's got that heroic detachment where he likes being alive but he is completely fine with dying to save someone else and isn't afraid of that, only afraid of failing to protect those he cares for. vegeta has spent a lot of time being humiliated & failing desperately to improve his circumstances, so when frieza & beerus show up he knows exactly what those situations feel like; he is personally afraid of what might happen to him, because the worst outcome he sees isn't dying in a fight but instead being forced to live miserably, which he can't endure. his ridiculous & nonsensical pride is probably just what he's like, but it's made substantially worse by his being thwarted for years; he's always trying to get his own back, even when it makes no particular sense for him to be doing that. it's great. my fondness for vegeta hinges on a sort of genre adjustment, where one goes "okay well it is a shonen where goku could punch the world in half, everything is always at least one-third a joke, and shenron can just un-kill people no problemo," so i am not taking the mass murder seriously here because who cares in that kind of setting. but there is generally a gap between vegeta's actual ability to hurt the people around him & his perceived ability to control his own life, which often results in him behaving very badly. and his priorities are fucked, but then like, so are everyone else's, what is goku doing ever (i love him). he's very loveable to me. he's just so fucking mad all the time, and he never gives himself or anyone else a break; this isn't good behavior, but it's deeply sympathetic in this strange way.

anyway obviously i think he & goku are married & i like thinking about how that happens, because in dbz when vegeta shows up he's genuinely a scary opponent; i like that little scene of the saiyans eating their enemies raw, because it's very fucked up (dragon ball super, which i am watching for the first time now, is much tamer!). the frieza arc is a great time for people who want to be weird about vegeta, because he has some excellent moments in it—mostly when he dies, actually. i love when he dies in part because goku understands him perfectly, so there's closure. their whole weird deal builds out of being the only two people who share their specific set of pressures. goten & trunks like to fight, but goku & vegeta need it; violence is something else when they make it. goku's key trait is his detachment—there's no artifice to him, really, he strives for infinite accomplishment & the only things holding him on earth are his individual relationships & his willingness to stand between earth & destruction ("i am the light in the darkness! i am truth!"). but really he's just in it to be his best, and he accepts no limit. vegeta is much more grounded & practical in a way—more aware of the idea of limits, but stubborn about them, competitive, angry. i love this about him. i'm not sure he loves it about himself ("he made me what i am. don't let him do it to anyone else").

i had only seen vegeta staring into the rain as a meme and when i watched the scene for the first time i kind of lost my mind, because that's such a ridiculous, powerful declaration. without goku, there's no point in vegeta fighting ever again! he gives it up! and of course that's not what happens in super, but i am charmed by the idea that GT just picked that up and said, "well, what, you think he'd lie? vegeta? the most hardcore stubborn man to ever do it? you think he'd overstate what his relationship with goku meant to him? of course he kept his word." it drives me nuts to imagine! they both die a bunch, but they leave defining patterns behind. persistence to a fault.

but anyway they're also goofy assholes & bad husbands & worse fathers (i forgive goku here mostly but i have no idea how gohan does), so they're a great match! chichi is a difficult character to me because she's just a nagging wife punchline most of the time & it's difficult to see what either she or goku gets out of that relationship. bulma & vegeta make more sense to me, because both of them are vain & petty & hilarious & conniving. i can see how they would like one another. so i sort of want to sit there & poke it, like, okay, what kind of relationship would work for goku & chichi? and the answer to me is platonic marriage where chichi mostly hangs out with bulma & her other friends, piccolo is functionally her coparent (i like this because it is funny to me) and goku & vegeta do their intense thing on the side. when vegeta died the first time goku was like "now there's only me" and it's important to me that there isn't! they keep each other from loneliness. they make each other understood. crunch crunch crunch i hate my job

[sunlessea]

not desirable for who? it? if he could scowl any more bitterly he would, but at this point he'd just be glowering at ships that passed by. he may as well tie his own noose and jump off the chair at this rate. he doesn't understand its obsession with making him anything other than another check off its body count, in both senses, and yet here he is, the only motherfucker in all of london immune to getting himself killed by a master of the bazaar! people would kill for whatever position he's in, and god, how he wishes they'd try.

"i fail to understand how you're so shocked everyone gawks at the idea someone like you wants company to begin with, let alone mine, let alone a caitiff's. you chose me out of a crowd of employees on a whim, you had countless other supervisors you could've latched onto." he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. he is talking to a brick wall! it's not even an argument, not really. they're always like this, and he hardly even flinches anymore when it starts getting angry. it isn't so brutish with him, as his family had once been in his human youth. what a joke : his own father had beaten the shit out of him more relentlessly than london's most violent master had ever laid a claw on him. it's sick.

they're both so temperamental. it's no wonder his peers called him an asshole, to its face even. they can't even stare down their greatest fears without insulting him! with his face in his hands and it curling its claws into its palms, what a romantic duo they must make. this isn't how normal people talk to each other.

"i don't know, learning about us?" he turns on it and glowers, fangs bared in a scowl of his own. "who knows! you never thought to ask. you don't ask me things, you assume them, and then you make up the rest! what do you even know about me that makes you want to talk to me, other than the fact i'm loud and rude?" he holds up his hands, abrasively, "don't answer that. it's rhetorical. i don't want to know."

he lets out a long, defeated sigh, and turns, once again, back to the zee. he slips down a little on the wood edge of the dock, trying to reach his leg down to the water. he's too short. his hair ends up a little mussed where he tugs at his ponytail, nothing too far off from pouting. he's so ... annoyed. "yeah, because i'm sure you'd tell me all your personal secrets if i asked you. in what world is any of that considered personal, though...? ¿por qué haces todo tan difícil? todo este tiempo entre humanos y no has aprendido nada..."

whatever. whatever!

it always ends up like this. somehow, he's the one who always looks the most angry between the two of them. he really shouldn't be this invested or even care that much when it comes to fires. he's the one continuously rejecting it, after all. anyone would get agitated if someone acted so hellbent on pursuing them without even knowing their full name, though. it feels so shallow, like it's making fun of him. "i'll bet it does. most the books from the surface get snatched by pages. the neath ruins every good story it touches. every story down here is so miserable and unhappy. i don't need fiction to make myself feel like dying." he's mumbling, nose wrinkled in distaste. he doesn't even catch the implications, too distracted by the gentle roll of the waves just underneath his shoe ... until it gets too close. the sudden movement from right next to his hip of it sitting up makes him go right back to glaring at it.

"you've got to be kidding me." it didn't even know! his own expression is a mix of exhaustion and offense. if he could push it off the dock, he would. he doesn't think he's strong enough. "i really am invisible to you, aren't i?" he stares at it a beat longer before rolling his eyes. this time when he returns to the zee, he leans forward 'gainst the dock's support to keep distance between them. his voice loses its fire, slipping back into the tired monotone he's more accustomed to. "after so long, i finally gave up on the surface. i lived in karakorum more or less since it fell until you assholes buried us again. figures most the city would end up dead except me. god laughed! truly."

even it's aware of the strangeness of their situation, though it presumes itself the last to come to that realization : a master and man, side by side with little to contest ... it is not here for the sake of bribery, or deal struck, and hardly even for its own personal affairs ... it just wants for his company. and that's the strangest thing of all, and perhaps still the most incomprehensible for anyone who bore the briefest witness.

" easier, perhaps, but not desirable. " it's quick to refute, but so often is it always on the defense to begin with—where it knows it needn't be, it's granted every bit the respect its earned through mixture of sharpened tooth and claw rather than its own metaphorical blood, sweat, and tears. it shouldn't have to defend itself at all! " i fail to understand what is so unbelievable about my interests. you all act as if it were some grand revelation that i am covetous with what little company i keep. when that company is put into question, i look for the answer. " its frustration is building. beyond the way its quivering shifts to outright bristling, there's a harsh, grating sound caught somewhere deep in its throat and reverberating as it speaks; deeper than a growl proper, like gnashing teeth.

even still, it's impossible in kind to ignore its restraint : how its claws curl only into its own palms where they don't scratch the grain, even the smallest muscles straining and stretching where it resists its more usual urges. so prone to outbursts with often so little care, the mind it does pay those impulses leaves it feeling rather on edge : tenses and uneasy. how it lashed out at the other caitiff, or any stranger—it doesn't wish to do with him. every moment it's claws had curled 'round his neck had been careful; precise and demanding, but so rarely did it intentionally nick skin, contrasting the way it knows it left the near-rotten wood stained with the blood of another, a corpse discarded with little regard for the mess it left behind.

" what use 'til now might i have had in paying mind the intricacies of normal people? " considerable effort is taken not to hiss, though there still rests a scowl 'neath its cowl, fangs caught on its lip as it takes to gnawing it in the lulls between. " would you answer even if i asked? " this much though, from the way it tugs at the loose fabric of its cloaks to ease its nerves, is strikingly sincere. it hadn't really considered ... any matter of those things. does it even have a favorite color? a past-time, yes, and certainly obsessions ... but the mundane? its head cocks, and ever slight, does one ear poke out at the edges. " you've rarely taken to engaging me in lesser conversations 'til now. was i supposed to assume then you would answer something so personal upon request? "

despite what all sounds like complaint, it's curious above all else. at least, enough to stop shaking where it sits; enough to hold its stare, ember eyes blinking slow. " pages can be quite the difficult sort. but it has its own collections, you know—i doubt it would notice if one of its numerous copies just so happened to be ... misplaced, " and what it wouldn't give to see it or any of its others caught up in a fit for once! whatever frustration it briefly felt barely lingers now, replaced with its gentle amusement as it shifts itself just a little closer—practically hip to hip. but it pauses from any more blatant affections, sitting back up with eyes wide as he continues.

" you were a part of the fourth? "

[everafterkeiji]

Hi can i request a hcs for itadori,megumi and gojo react to their s/o death?.

Please Feel free to ignore this request if its triggering or u don't feel like writing it! Thank you<3

i love angst requests so it's really okay with me! thank you so much for requesting (ngl i did cry thinking abt yuji) and i hope u have a lovely day even if this was incredibly sad

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

PAIRINGS: JJK BOYS x gn!reader

CHARACTERS: Itadori Yuji, Megumi Fushiguro, & Gojo Satoru

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

WARNINGS: heavy angst, character death, mentions of blood and panic attacks, as well wounds and bruises. mentions of Shibuya arc/implied location in Shibuya during that arc.

⟡ 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 eyes dared to erase the sight ahead of him, his body was frozen—every sense began to fail for its purpose and nothing else was responsive except for the shout of your name that echoes through the battle field, the level of immensity to his voice that covers his throat with pain as every pace towards you was a step leading to a waste of a second that terrifies him the more his being tugged away by his own fears.

Dropping to his knees, he was numb to the sensation of the ache overwhelming his legs while he craddles you in his arms as every part of him shook with uncertainty, his hands didn't have the courage to hold you with as much as strength as he should've.

"..Y/N?" He whispers, a croak to his voice as if it was barely alive with droplets created from his sorrow began to trail down your cheek whilst your blood paints his hand in a hue he never expected to come from you. His mind was in the midst of being empty to a havoc that wanted to deny every rage in his system so he could love you even if he could tell how your chest wasn't rising the way it was supposed to do.

"Love?" Yuji calls out one more time as your eyes flutter subtly, signalling him not even an assurance for your state. His hand falls to your cheek, not caring if he couldn't hold you weakly because what matters more is that you held onto him. He painfully leans his forehead on yours, a loud sob escaping him with a struggle to catch up with his breath.

"Don't let me go, don't ever leave me, I beg of you, God!" He shouts as the gods grow concerned of the boy whose heart was wrecked to every piece as the sky began to cry with him. "Save them— God— Please! Stop taking everyone that I love and let me come with them." He begs, as he pulls you more as if the distance could've helped him better because even when you were close to him, he knew you were already at the farthest place that he couldn't reach. All that could be heard from him were screams where he forfeited ever begging for your life when everyone around seems to follow in your path.

"I'm so sorry, my love." Itadori confesses, arms tight around your figure as every beat of his heart began to die with you when all the seconds that he seemed to waste without you by his side began to haunt him. If he had gotten there sooner, maybe then he could've reminded you one more time that you were the energy—the surviving light in his life for him to exist without being told of his faith.

"I love you—so much so please remember that even when you're away." He couldn't even explain how his words manage to fall in such a manner, he could've sworn a second ago he only wanted to let time freeze so he could deny the view of your lifeless body that he miserably failed to save from the hands of death.

"I promise you, in the end, I'll be with you soon, Y/N." Itadori places a delicate kiss to your forehead, having no courage to leave the contact of your skin to his as his eyes went with the rain that poured over the two of you. He intertwines one of his hands with yours, shivering at the temperature he faces but with the other hand, he rests it on his cheek. Maybe if you looked at him now, you'd want him to smile because if you were the source of his reason to exist, Yuji's smile was the one to let your hearts worries disappear but sadly, the source has been removed from him and nothing else in the world could ever bring the joy in his smile no more.

"All I've ever wanted to do was to love you, so I hope you're willing to wait because when I see you.. I'm gonna embrace you with everything I've got," He then kisses the hand intertwined to his before he achingly pull his hand away and the regret closing on him but he had no other choice.

"And love you again and again, Y/N. Always and.. forever—like what we promised." Yuji, as torturous it was to let you go, he sets your hand that was on his cheek to your chest just like he did with the other before he ends his goodbye with a lasting kiss to your cheek.

"Stop crying, Yuji! C'mon smile for me, will you? I didn't come here to see you all gloomy."

And with the remaining memories left for him, it began to be the weak strings for his heart to compose itself because if he knows one thing that you hated, it was the sight of him crying.

So he smiles, the everlasting wish of yours being granted even if his body was corrupting as the love of his life enters a new realm where forever was possible for the both of you.

"We'll meet again, my love."

As he stood up, he hesitates to turn his back on you but once he does, the sun never looked the same to him ever again.

⟡ 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 encounters a feeling that he's been through before—a course of emotions that has his body in a tight hold but now, it seems the hold on him was deadlier than the first time. Your name had left his lips, draining him of his exhaustion to run to you before you could fall, every fiber in his body was holding on to his fear. He didn't need to feel the ache in his legs that were covered in wounds because his mission was for you to perfectly land in his arms even if he had to risk getting more injuries.

His heart began to pace in frantic pace when he catches you, there wasn't a split second of joy that entered him just because he made it in time. Instead, his eyes widen in trauma at the sight of your dull eyes that looked above to the heavens sky.

"Hey—hey!" He shouts, trembling hands feeling every bit of your skin and ends with it down to your cheek. "Talk to me—anything, please!" Megumi pleads as a drop of your blood that came from your forehead started to flow onto his skin. He gulps with his breathing unable to coordinate with him as his head frenetically looks up, any sign of help could've been the better reach but they were just in the mere corner of a building in Shibuya.

"Y/N? Please say something." He whispers, furiously wiping his tears while he despises the warmth of your blood that paints his hands. "C'mon please, let me hear your voice one last time." He sobs on your shoulder, embracing you with every corrupting piece of his heart, looking for a beat from your rather cold ones. His hands go to your hair, caressing it so lightly that he felt it resembled glass from how careful he was. Your head was buried in his neck, eyes barely awake for him to ever find that heartbeat.

"I love you, did you hear me?" Megumi says, gulping in the grief. "Say it back to me like you always did, please?" He doesn't know that begging would've been his lasting choice—maybe someone up above would take some time to listen to his pleads and eventually bring the life to his lovers body once again for you to say you love him back a thousand times more.

"Hug me one more time, will you? You told me you loved to do that." He desperately wishes your arms could just return to the place he loved, wrapped around his neck as his hands were to be on your waist or to your cheek with a smile to your lips. Unfortunately, your arms were covered in their own bruises—latched with dark purple hues and tints of red from the debris of buildings and cursed spirits.

"We have to go, Megumi!" One of the sorcerers shout, he didn't even have the time to decipher who it belonged to but he sniffles, reaching for his phone typing a quick message to the others to be able to take you out of this place with somewhere more deserving of a beauty that has passed.

"I'm not going to say goodbye because I know you'll always be with me, right Y/N?" He takes your hands, placing it on your chest on top of each other as his tear lands on your temple. He softly wipes it away before he kisses your forehead, closing his eyes shut at his misery.

"I wish I could've saved you. I really wish I did." He sobs, forehead in tact with yours but he seems to receive a sensation to his body at the wind that came his way.

"You've saved me the minute you met me, my love." You wish you could've whispered to him but he took it as the wind was the only embrace he'll ever get now.

"And you saved me too." Panda walks in to this horrid scene as he feels the sympathy rush to him. Megumi looks up at him with the liveliness dying along with you as your lover delicately holds your cheek one last time before kissing you on your temple muttering one more time,

"I love you always."

Standing up was the second hardest thing he had to do because turning his back to you came at first as his knees threatened to fall but alas, he has to do continue on because that's what you would've wanted right?

"I love you, Megumi. I'll be here waiting for you."

And the upcoming battles for him to face were laced with rage and the never ending bitterness that love seemed to haunt him with.

⟡ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎's phone rang as while he stops to stare at the caller. It was odd for him to receive a phone call from Megumi at this hour but he supposed it was probably for some guidance since they were sent to a mission. Being aware of their location, he didn't hesitate to transport as fast as he could to get there but there's this calling to him how it wasn't bound to be what he expected.

Panting heavily, Megumi ran with life on the line as he carried you in his arms without the ability to pace your breathing the same as his.

"GOJO-SENSEI!" He shouts with every power in his lungs the second Gojo had appeared, who stood stunned at the boy who was approaching him with a familiar figure.

"Y/N?" Satoru says, uncertain of what he just saw but when Megumi reached him, out of his breath as Nobara and Itadori followed behind him. His student places you in your lovers arm as he kneels down with a hand to your chest, alarmed at how your heartbeat was nowhere near notice. Fushiguro could see the worry in the mans eyes as he bites his lip in sympathy before telling the two to spare a moment for the so called strongest sorcerer who was now on his knees for only one person.

"We saw them being followed by a cursed spirit but they led Y/N to a trap." Megumi briefly explains as Gojo could only spare him a nod as your eyes would flutter once a while as the three students let them be.

"I warned you, didn't I?" He says, a low whisper as your hand weakly reach for his blindfold while Gojo's own rhythm of a heartbeat began to ache. Once he felt how you raised it with a cough of blood spoiling his uniform as his expression grow more frantic with every second.

"Hey there, pretty. You mind staying with me for a little longer?" He asked as if your ears were as attentive as it were before when his eyes stared back at your dazed ones. You didn't respond which was troubling him, what more was that your hand immediately dropped to your chest when he finally looked at you. A shakey sigh leaves Gojo while he rose, ready to fly you anywhere as long as you promised to stay.

"A little more please, can you do that for me?" He begs of you but instead, your head fell unconsciously in his arms with the threat of your eyes to close before he could ever look at you again, not too mention the flow of blood that came from your stomach that didn't seem to stop. He hasn't had the confidence to look at your body before because the fear on Megumi's face made him certain of how the damage had been rough on you. Up this close, he can see two massive wounds to your lower body as well as scratches on your forearms with some bruises on your wrist, hinting how their grasp on you was too strong compared to someone who was powerless.

The hue of his eyes appear to be less saturated than before and for the first time in the life of the honored sorcerer, his heart was irreparable and no amount of technique can reverse the way love his love for you had been the fault for your end.

Unknown to his own senses, his tears fall to your cheek as he pulls you closer like an embrace that didn't bring him his usual amount of comfort.

"Satoru, stop messing around!" You said as he spun you around, tight arms around his neck as he flew in the air, not bothering to listen to your protests of putting you down.

"I won't let you go, how could I ever do that to you?" He assures you, with his own arms tied to your waist with a bright smile on his face.

"And if I fall?" You asked him, glancing at the heights below you but Gojo only tucks a piece of hair behind your ear as you looked at him with the sun in your eyes since two lovers were up in the sky to reach for the clouds.

"I'll be there to save you."

But where was he when you fell from the skyscrapers?

"You hate me, I'm sure." He says biting his lip in agony as he buries his head to your chest, silent sobs and unsteady breaths coming from the sorcerer.

"I love you so much." Satoru breathlessly said. The head that was once on your chest began to move away when he heard nothing more than the silence that came from your heart. They were out to get you, how stupid was he to let you out of his sight just for a second? Maybe then he could've danced with you one more time, up in the sky for the two of you to conquer the heights of being in love.

"I'm so sorry, darling." He then kisses the side of your lip as his feet met in contact with the floor as the rest of the Jujutsu tech as Shoko lets out a saddened sigh.

"Wait for me okay? I'm not done loving you yet." He whispers to you one last time while he hands you over to Shoko as Megumi spares him a glance to notice how wretched his mentor looked.

"I have some things to do." Gojo announces, withstanding the grief to plot revenge to the ones who took you away from him as the rest didn't bother to object knowing there was no possible way to stop a man who had lost the love of his life in revenging your death. He disappears in a split second as the rest of the students didn't notice the tears that kept flowing from the person they look up to.

How can he be the strongest when he failed to protect his only weakness?

Until then, Gojo Satoru could only look at the sky to remember you since his infinity that he swore was to be spent with you died in his arms along with his lover.

[niuniente]

I love how DMC fandom is “Lol wow who fucked Vergil, he’s a dad???” Hey, I though the same! Then I realized that accidentally becoming a teenage father is more fitting to Vergil than it is to Dante. Why?

Because, as much as Vergil plays other role on the outside, he is actually acting on a whim based on his emotions and feelings.* Vergil lacks this self-awareness and planning up ahead, concentrating only on what he can get now. What is the short term pay off for this? I’ll go for it! Everything that happens to Vergil is from his point of a view someone else’s fault and he has done nothing himself, when he’s actively sabotaging his own life with his recklessness.

He gets an idea? He goes after it immediately, no matter the consequences. His mind is narrowly focused on the goal only and fails to recognize anything else.

Something goes wrong? No, it was not my fault, everyone else is at fault and made me feel like this, which made me act like that.

He blames Dante for being born and making his life miserable, when Vergil has actively himself acted on a whim and doomed himself deeper and deeper into the mess he is in.

He yeets himself into Hell at the end of DMC3 though he could have gone to human world with Dante and have the life he wanted with the disciplined work with himself which he is capable of, but his feelings were telling him to do the opposite.

He yeets his humanity out of himself (and proceed blaming Dante for his actions - dude, you had Yamato. You stabbed yourself, though I know you were dying) almost causing an apocalypse.

He resents Dante so much, blames Eva for forgetting him and favoring Dante in the demon attack that it doesn’t even occur to him that maybe mother was unable to find me. Perhaps she was attacked, even killed? The demon attack seemed to happen really quickly.

His demon awakens only due his strong emotions and feelings, and Vergil gets obsessed with his feeling and emotions so much that he does anything he can to get more powerful, logical or not, wise or not, beneficial to him or not. It doesn’t matter. He has a feeling and he must act upon it.

His feelings are shown on the outside and he doesn’t hesitate to show rage, anger, resentment etc.

So, in a sense, Vergil is very responsible, calculating and calm on the outside, but his true self is emotional, lacking self-awareness, going after imminent rewards and irresponsible.

Of course he would accidentally become a father as a teenager! Poor Vergil just seems to make a bad decision after a bad decision because he’s so controlled by his feelings and emotions, as much as he tells himself being the calculating and powerful Alpha Demon.

Now, Dante on the other hand, is the opposite of Vergil. He appears on the outside as a wacky-woohoo pizza-party man who doesn’t know how to handle money, and is irresponsible, playful, joking and doesn’t take anything seriously. Whereas you would find Vergil on a Sunday afternoon practicing with Yamato with a calm discipline, you’d find Dante eating strawberry ice-cream and drinking whiskey in his boxers from the sofa with messy hair.

Dante seems to act on a whim, but he’s logical, calculating and sees wide pictures, trying to be a one step ahead of others. He contemplates long term effects and how they affect others around him. He knew for years that Nero was Vergil’s son, being his uncle, but instead of acting upon this realization, he started to scheme how he could keep Nero safe from that information. In DMC5 he’s doing everything he can to subtly keep Nero away from Urizen and Vergil, hurting Nero in the process.

Where Vergil sees no fault in him - he is the Big Bad Alpha Demon after all - Dante sees that everything happening around him is somehow his fault and his responsibility. He goes to clean Vergil’s messes, when if you looked only the outside of the twins, you’d expect Vergil to be the one who keeps rescuing Dante from all the messes he has gotten himself into.

While Dante is very sensitive and emphatetic - he embraces his humanity more than his demon - he rarely shows his true emotions and feelings. His empathy doesn’t reach him and it’s said (canonically) that Dante is reckless because he doesn’t care about himself. He’s mainly concerned about others and refuses to do something which would hurt others, especially humans.

Vergil hides his reckless nature in the mask of coolness, logic and awareness.

Dante hides his calculating nature in the mask of irresponsibility, humor and carefree attitude.

*In astrology, this Inner Self vs Outer Self is explained with Sun Sign and Rising Sign. The Rising Sign is what people perceive when they see you and what you project on the outside. The Sun Sign is who you truly are, how your true nature is, and it can be extremely well hidden from the views of others, especially when the Rising Sign and the Sun Sign are opposite of each other.

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part Two)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Butterflies getting caught in throats with no words to help explain. Time standing still with a heart breaking. Determination and a willingness to see it through float away in sleep.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw injury (nothing major, just a wrist injury)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 6644

Shoutout to @damianodavide​, who was a superb help on this chapter and the real life nurse behind this one ;) 😘

***

Damiano’s head was spinning. As soon as he closed his eyes, Y/n’s face appeared in front of him, eyes hooded, lips plumps from just having kissed him, and an expression that promised a need for more. It left him bothered in a way that he knew would not let him sleep until he took care of it. Trying to pretend it was her feminine hand instead of his own rather undignified touch, he reached into the waistband of his underwear immediately letting out a hiss at the contact. 

He was desperate for her, but if he couldn’t have her, his imagination would have to do. Pictures flashed through his mind as he moved his hand. Her on her knees, looking up at him through long lashes. He had already gotten a taste of the way she reacted when he complimented her, watching her eyes go wide as he called her a good girl. Her being good for him. Her on her back, ready to be devoured by him in any way he pleased. Feeling his hands go into her hair pulling her face up to look at him. Her bent over whatever furniture he could find, willing to let him have his way with her. Deeply, madly, irrefutably, he wanted it all. She was truly making him lose his mind. Her body and the way she moved were infatuating. Her laugh when someone did something dumb. The look in her eyes when she teased him back. He could still feel the kiss she left on his lips. He never wanted that feeling to end. Brava ragazza mia.

He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, unable to hold back or keep quiet. For a moment, in the silence, he wondered if anyone had heard. He was well aware that his room was surrounded by those of bandmates and crew, but he couldn’t remember who it was exactly anyway, and it didn’t bother him for long, his hazy mind drifting around once again. 

***

“Where is your mind at?” Y/n looked up as Victoria pulled her out of her thoughts unexpectedly. Y/n had stopped in Victoria's room after breakfast, trying to keep tabs on what everyone’s plans were on their day off. She had meant to get some work done as Victoria was busying herself getting ready, but it had ended up with her staring into the distance, laptop almost forgotten on her lap.

“Oh, sorry. I’m here, what were you saying?��� 

“I asked where your mind is at.” Victoria fell forward laying on the bed. Y/n knew that the blonde was starting to learn to read her like a book and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

“Yeah, um, listen. What would you say to someone that may have absolutely decimated her career, by maybe accidentally kissing her boss while they were all high?” She didn’t dare look at the bassist, bracing herself for whatever negative reaction would potentially come from this.

Victoria sat up in surprise, eyes wide and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to need a lot more information than that.” Without giving in to Y/n’s slight protest, she removed the laptop from the assistant’s legs, closing it shut and putting it away. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to it really. We sat on the couch, you know that. And I said something stupid about how his eyes looked like chocolates, or maybe gemstones? I don’t quite remember. Anyway, then he pulled my hair out of the hair-tie. I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned his face. Fuck, it was bad. Not the kiss! He is very good at that! But I shouldn’t have done that. And then he just went ‘it's cool, it happens’. What does that even mean?!” She was talking much too quickly, getting it all out before the rational part of her brain would make her shut up. Make her remember she was talking to someone she’d only just started getting to know a week ago, who she was working for. “Then Thomas crashed and you know how that ended. Now I might be avoiding him. Just a bit.” She looked at Vic with a slight panic in her eyes, unsure if she had said too much.

Victoria, on the other hand, seemed delighted to no end, if a little shocked. “Wait, as if you kissed with all of us there and no one noticed!” She exclaimed, briefly pausing, contemplating, but shaking it off to get back to the conversation. “So… Good kiss, huh? Did you enjoy it then? Wanna do it again?” Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Victoria! That is not what I am worried about here! I could lose my job. I- I could never show my face out there again if people found out. And I really enjoy this job, you know!” Her face scrunched a little bit, calming down with a sigh. “...But also, yes, he was a gentleman, and if he wanted to … kiss me again, I probably wouldn’t say no. But I also wouldn’t say yes. I work for you. This is not the time to be thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing Damiano!”

Her eyes went wide as her voice dropped to a whisper, looking down at her hands. “Ah fuck, I said that out loud.” 

“Okay, let’s look at it from a rational standpoint then.” Victoria turned slightly more serious at seeing her panic. “There is no way you’ll be losing your job over this. Maybe I wouldn’t advise hopping into bed with the whole band and crew, but we always got a tight-knit relationship with people we work with anyway, you know that. None of us would rat you out to management or anything. Plus, if you liked and Damiano liked it… wouldn’t it be a shame to worry about anything else instead of going for it?”

“I don’t know if he liked it. I was busy trying not to pass out, to be honest. I avoided him this morning by going straight to your room. I actually kind of avoided everyone, I’m scared the words of what happened will just come out to anyone who asks… Kind of like they just did with you.” She let out another deep sigh, switching between looking at her nails, picking at them, and out the window. “If he ...you know ... Then maybe. I honestly don’t even know what I would do with that information. On the off chance that he did like it though. And wanted to go for it then I’d consider it.” She tried to remain as put together as possible and, well aware that she was failing miserably. 

“Well, in that case, we have to find out what Damiano wants!” Victoria’s enthusiasm was back with a vengeance. “You should talk to him! Or should I talk to him? Maybe I should lock you in a room like those romcoms and threaten to not let you out again until you kiss.”

“Or you don’t do that because that is entrapment. I think I would be cool with you talking to him. But I still have to do my job. That comes first. Because as far as I am concerned,” Y/n got up and grabbed her laptop again, “it is business as usual. And last night was a fluke. Not to crush your rom-com dreams, love, but if I spoke to him I’d put my foot in my mouth faster than you can play bass.”

The smirk on Vic’s face didn’t promise anything good. “We’ll see about that, we’ll see,” she ominously muttered, before jumping up from the bed. “Now stop trying to pretend you got work to do, we’re going vintage clothes shopping.”

*** 

The thrift store turned out to be a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, just off a side street - perfect for shopping in peace without getting much attention at all. Y/n hadn’t been all that keen on keeping the band company for this little adventure, but Victoria had insisted, claiming she needed a female perspective in case the boys were being stupid again. It had only taken a serious case of the puppy dog eyes to win her over, and Victoria found herself making a mental note to remember it.

The store was stuffed full of clothes, a kind of chaos that seemed to have an order that only the owner really understood. But it looked like heaven, and within seconds everyone had vanished into some corner or other, dying to find their newest favourite piece. For a moment, Victoria contemplated who she wanted to follow first, feeling the need to talk to at least two different people but also never wanting to miss out on a chance to go crazy with Thomas. Ended up deciding on Damiano. It seemed the more pressing issue. She hadn’t failed to notice how he would try to pretend that everything was normal, yet continuously evading Y/n’s eyes. She had kept her distance all the same. This wasn’t acceptable. She had to do something, Victoria decided.

She found the singer shuffling through some blouses, although much more half-heartedly than he tended to be when it came to vintage clothes. Looking out from the racks Victoria saw Y/n doing the same. She briefly considered how to go on about this - admit that Y/n had told her what had happened? Pretend she had actually seen the kiss last night? - but figured that Damiano would start talking on his own accord sooner or later. Especially if this was affecting him the way it was Y/n, and she was almost hoping it was.

“Okay, spill, what’s up with you today?”

Damiano shrugged, pulling a shirt out from the rack, and holding it against his body, waiting for Victoria's opinion. She raised a brow and put it back wordlessly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded rather vaguely.

“Damia, you’ve barely spoken at all today. Normally you can’t shut up. And you know, I’d be thankful for some peace and quiet from you, but you’re actually worrying me. So what’s going on with you?” 

Damiano had a panicked look on his face as he scanned over the racks of clothes, his eyes flickering back and forth, obviously noticing Y/n shuffling through some things and slowly getting closer. Taking Vic by surprise, he dragged her into the dressing rooms. 

“Okay, that’s…. Weirdly intimate, but go on,” Vic mumbled to herself as he closed the curtain behind them, still nervously looking around the small space.

“Rather talk to you in here, than her hear me out there. I may have fucked up, royally.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Victoria was sure he would be burning a hole into the wall with his vision if he possessed that power. He was avoiding looking at her and she knew it.

“Explain,” she simply demanded, sitting down on the tiny stool in the corner and looking up at Damiano. She wanted to hear it from him, hear what had happened in his version of the story, hear what was bothering him so much.

“So we were at that bar, right? Y/n was sitting next to me. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you were there. Anyway. We were talking. I don’t know if it was the smoking or whatever else, but I looked at her and - I don’t know why I did this but I did. I pulled her hair out of her hair tie.” He leaned on the wall, his head hitting the brick behind him. He groaned but Vic assumed it didn’t have anything to do with the pain. “And… and she was so beautiful. Her hair just all around her. So soft. And at that moment, she was laughing and it sounded heavenly. And I went to look at her again and suddenly my lips were on hers…” His voice softened at the end, losing his train of thought and drifting. She had never quite seen him like this. “Then she was freaking out, and I told her some fucking stupid line like ‘it happens’. I just wanted her to calm down but… Now she must think I’d just...” He groaned, slumping a little and finally looking over at Vic. “Then she ran off to help Thomas.” 

“So, what you’re saying then is that you did enjoy it? Potentially wanna do it again?” She felt transported back to the conversation she’d had with Y/n just hours earlier, posing almost the exact same question. She had never been this involved with any of her friends’ relationships to this extent, but something told her that her help was desperately needed in this case.

He raised a brow at her. “Did you not hear the part where after we kissed she then proceeded to freak out? I doubt that she even wants to see my face right now.” A heavy sigh left him and Victoria found herself laying a hand on his arm. “And of course I want to kiss her again, Vic. I close my eyes and she is there. Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!” 

*** 

Y/n stood in the shoe aisle holding a pair of heels in her hand, contemplating for a second, before putting them on. Turning towards Ethan, who was walking towards her now, she realised it had eliminated all height differences between them. Definitely too high, she thought to herself. Holding onto his shoulders, she clumsily took them back off.

“Hey Ethan, find anything good?” The smile on her face felt forced but she was praying he wouldn’t see it.

He proudly holds up a black, studded belt with an intricate design on it, as well as a pink suede jacket. “How about you? I think I saw some nice trousers over there that might suit you. Wanna check it out?”

Y/n scoffed. She didn’t want to let her mood out on Ethan, trying her hardest to stay diplomatic. “Love the idea, but I doubt any of the clothes in here would go over my thigh. They’d fit you guys just great though. The jacket looks good, by the way.” She tried to distract herself from - well, everything - by putting the shoes away, mindlessly letting her fingers wander over the other pairs standing there.

Ethan looked at her in contemplation for a moment, but seemed to decide against following his train of thought. “At least try on some more shoes. Here, what about these?” He excitedly grabbed a pair of high-heeled boots, very much in the style she could see any of them wearing on stage - much less the one she usually went for when working.

A little intimidated, she took the shoes, if only to humour him. Ethan was nothing but a sweetheart, this was the least she could do. She put them on only with some slight struggle. She once again reached his height, almost amused by the feeling of seeing eye-to-eye with him, but the shoes felt strange. Very far removed from the usual flats, sneakers, boots, or whatever other pair that would allow her to keep running around all day without regretting it in the evening.

“Do I look silly?” 

“You look gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” His voice had the most earnest tone to it and it was only supported by the way he studied her, looking her up and down. “Maybe walk a few steps to see if you can get used to it.”

She laughed as she proceeded to strut and partially dance some steps down the aisle to the song playing in the store. “I haven’t worn heels in so long, still got it though!”.” Her small smile grew into a grin, rather proud of herself for still being able to keep up. Going to the mirror near Ethan she looked at the shoes, then at herself in the shoes, then back at Ethan. Still, the insecurity took over for a moment. Her voice seemed small when she asked, “You think so?” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he replied, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. “Want to go and see what the others think? I saw Thomas over there, and Vic and Dami disappeared into that corner a while ago.”

“Right, good idea.” She walked over to the dressing room looking for Damiano and Victoria, figuring they had gone to try on some things. Well, she was mainly looking for Victoria, still uncomfortable at the thought of facing the singer. She was in the middle of calling out for them when Damiano’s voice seeped through the curtain instead. She didn’t mean to listen, only to wait for him to stop so she could interrupt, but the second she realised what he was saying she wished she had never come over.

“Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

She stepped back. Frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of her chest, hurting, aching, breaking just that little bit. Processing what he had said seemed to happen not at all and then suddenly all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Anything but this suffocation. She needed to leave.

“I need some air.”

The words came out of her mouth much louder than anticipated, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that people were looking at her now. She didn’t care that was still wearing a pair of shoes that she had definitely not paid for yet. She just needed out, out, out, and away from all this. From him.

She didn’t realise she was walking on cobblestone until she wasn’t anymore, her ankle giving way, arms desperately trying to keep her from falling as she stumbled.

***

Damiano and Victoria stopped in their tracks as they heard someone approach from outside of the dressing room. Both heads turned towards the sound, when Y/n’s voice came through, telling maybe no one in particular that she needed some air. Her voice sounded strange. Damiano was convinced he had never heard that particular tone in it. As he threw back the curtain, he saw her stumble outside, clearly hectic, and he could feel a surge of panic run through him. Something wasn't right here. He forgot all about the conversation he was having, all about Victoria, and made his way outside. Not quite running, but the worry had him out of the door quickly. His heart sank when he saw her, lying on the floor just outside of the shop, holding her arm awkwardly, some scratches already beginning to bleed a little. As she looked up at him, he could see tears pricking at her eyes.

"Fuck, are you okay? What happened? I just saw-" The look on her face - or rather, the way she turned away from him - shut him up instantly. This wasn't the time to bombard her with questions. It didn't matter anyway. Instead of bothering her further, he quickly knelt down beside her, helping her sit up in return. He was acutely aware of the way she pulled away the second he touched her skin. Like she had been burned. ´

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry to ruin the shopping trip, you can go back in if you want to," she mumbled, trying to wipe some tears away but instead spreading some dirt and drying blood onto her cheek instead. Damiano wanted to touch her, clean her up, dry her tears, but the way she had pulled away a minute ago made him not want to try. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her more. He watched as she pulled out her wallet, handing it to him. "Go pay for the shoes please. And stop looking at me like that, I said I’m fine."

Yet, as soon as she moved, she winced in pain, taking a deep breath before getting herself up to a standing position. He found himself holding her arm in support, but she only accepted it for as long as necessary. As he let go, she let out a small cry of pain, obviously holding her hurt wrist the wrong way.

“You’re obviously not fine,” Damiano sighed. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but she was already in tears, turning away, and it simply didn’t seem like a sensible option. He looked around at the others as they gathered around Y/n. Only Thomas was missing, probably still blissfully unaware inside the shop and browsing for clothes. He tossed the wallet to Ethan. “Would you mind paying for her shoes real quick?” Ethan nodded, walking back into the store. Y/n was still standing between them, holding her arm close to her body in a protective gesture. Almost a similar expression to the one she had had on her face on the plane all those days ago. He wondered if something was scaring her the way the turbulence did back then. 

“I am and will be fine, Damiano.” Her voice was stern. “I cry at a lot of things, this is no different. I wrap it up, put ice on it for a while and I’m golden.” 

He watched as Victoria put a tentative hand on Y/n’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away from her touch, he noticed. “Y/n, that really doesn’t look like nothing. Look, it’s starting to swell up already.” 

"What do you want me to do then?" She almost sounded resigned now as she looked back and forth between Damiano and Victoria. "We are in Amsterdam. I don't exactly have a GP on speed dial here. Now, where is Ethan with my wallet?"

She started walking towards the door of the shop, but Damiano defiantly held out his arm to stop her. "We are taking you to A&E."

Her face seemed to drain of all colour, and this time it was not because of the pain. "You are not taking me to a hospital."

Damiano looked at her, determination in his eyes, trying to make her understand that this was non-negotiable. Just for now,  he would forget about the way she was brushing him off, the way she was evading his touch, the way she did not even want to look at him. Because right now she needed him and he would be there for her, if she wanted him to be or not.

"Yes, I am. Final decision. You would do the same for us if we got hurt. But we're responsible for you too, you're part of our crew, and right now, being responsible means getting this checked out. Besides, you're not getting your wallet back until you agree."

As soon as Ethan stepped outside again, this time with a slightly confused-looking Thomas in tow, Damiano snatched the wallet from his hands only to put it in his own jeans pocket. She was mad, obviously turning whatever was bothering her into anger, but Damiano was having none of it and he hoped the look in his eyes told her so.

"Fine! Take me to the hospital. But know that I am not happy about this."

"I don't need you to be. I just need you to come with me."

***

A quick refresher of her rudimentary Dutch verified that she was indeed looking for "spoedeisende hulp", another search on the internet confirmed that there was a hospital nearby, and before she knew it, she had been whisked into a taxi with Damiano. The others had decided to make their way back to the hotel, no point in clogging up the waiting room. Damiano promised to call with any news immediately.

Y/n wouldn't tell him, certainly not right then and there but she was happy that Damiano seemed to take the lead for once. She wouldn't have had any problems had any of the others needed medical help - but having people fuss about her? Making her the center of attention in a way she did not intend to be and having to accept help from others?... It was a completely different story. Still she appreciated the way he handled the situation, making sure she got registered with the administration straight away, listening attentively for further instructions, and leading her into the waiting area. She was also glad that it seemed to be quiet, not only because it would result in less of a wait, but also because the bustling would have made her all the more nervous.

This was out of her comfort zone. She had managed to avoid hospitals for the majority of her life, and yet here she was, because she panicked and couldn't handle her shoes. Looking down at them, she wanted to curse them. Curse the fact that they made her walk over to Damiano and Victoria in the first place, curse the fact that she had heard Damiano speak about her that way, curse the fact that they carried her out the door but not much further. She didn't even know where her actual shoes were. Hopefully, Ethan had kept his head and collected them on the way out after paying.

A few seats down, someone coughed loudly, reminding her exactly of where she was. It wasn't the worst hospital she had ever been in, that much was true, but she would rather not see one from the inside at all. She was dying for some comfort, some soothing words, a gentle touch, but as soon as Damiano made any attempt at reaching out to her she pulled back. His words were still heavily playing on her mind, the swelling of her wrist and the heat that seemed to seep from it a painful reminder. There was no way she was going to let herself fall, be reassured and consoled by him when he was so obviously sick of her presence. She wouldn't do that to either of them. Victoria with all her good intentions be damned. At least right now. 

“Why are they not calling you in, it doesn’t even look like they’re doing anything,” Damiano grumbled next to her, eyes on the nurse’s station where a few of them were sitting. A few eyes were on them, something that looked like an excited discussion.

“Stop it, I’m sure they’re busy at work. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean they aren’t”, she bit back, slightly harsher than intended. He shot her a look, eyebrows raised, but she turned away, not looking to have a deeper conversation.

It left Damiano sitting in silence. Leaving both of them in the same situation, again. Y/n and him alone. Well, alone enough. Alone enough to not have anyone distract her from the uncomfortable feeling that settled over them. No Thomas being silly, no Victoria making a dumb comment, no calming presence of Ethan. Through this whole process, Y/n had basically crawled back into herself. She wished she could disappear.

She didn't know how much time had passed when they were finally called, too preoccupied with her own thoughts and the pain in her wrist. The nurse that beckoned them over had the warmest smile on her face, albeit tired eyes and it surprised Y/n how much comfort she found in the soft expression of the woman. White slacks, rolled up sleeves, pockets so full it looked like they were bursting at the seams, dark hair up in a bun. She found herself looking over at Damiano, wondering if he was aware of how gorgeous this woman was, how kind and calming her aura was, but his eyes were trained solely on her. She didn't allow herself to get lost in his gaze, quickly dropping hers and following the nurse into an examination room.

“Hi, I’m Ana, I’m going to be your nurse for today. You only speak English, am I correct?” She asked, gesturing for both of them to sit down, Y/n on the examination table and Damiano on a chair next to it. There was a slight twinge of an accent in her speech, but it was clear that she was fluent, which was a relief. Y/n didn’t even want to think about trying to get this done with the few words she knew in Dutch. She nodded, gratefully. “We’re going to go over what happened, and then I’ll do a physical examination, and the doctor will see you after as well.”

Y/n watched as the nurse fumbled with the computer, seemingly already typing things before Y/n had even said anything. “So, what exactly happened?”

“I, uh, tried on some heels and tripped on the cobblestone outside,” Y/n explained, taking a moment to glare at the offending shoes still on her feet. “Fell forwards, tried to soften the blow with my hands and now my wrist looks like this.” She held up the offending arm, gathering that the sight would speak for itself. The dried blood of the little scrapes on the palms of her hand did its best to make it look more dramatic than it felt.

“Oh, yeah that looks quite painful,” the nurse winced. “I see you’ve scraped your knee as well.”

Y/n looked down, slightly confused, only to realise her jeans had torn, revealing a beat-up knee underneath. Crap, she hadn’t even noticed, too occupied with… well, everything else. This felt like it was getting worse by the second, she never wanted to get back to a hotel room this badly. She felt like crying, but letting Damiano see her composure waver was the last thing she would allow.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, moving her legs as if it gave her a chance of hiding her bruises.

“It’s not nothing, Y/n,” Damiano sighed next to her, before turning towards the nurse. “I think it’s more serious than she’s letting on.” In the same determined tone from before. 

The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them. “It’s probably the shock of it.”

Oh yeah, the shock. Mainly that of finding out that Damiano didn’t want her around, apparently.

The nurse asked a few more questions, time of the accident, previous medical history, medication she was taking regularly, but they barely reached her. She found herself answering curtly, with Damiano filling in where he could. She wouldn’t tell him she was thankful for it. Even though the idea of him taking care of her made her emotional. 

“Right, let’s get that wrist looked at then.” Y/n had feared it would be painful but as soon as the nurse started handling her? She knew it was her job to feel the joints, test her range of motion, move her arm. But unwelcome tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to push Damiano’s hand away, as she almost reveled in the comforting touch on her back. The small talk didn’t even begin to make for a distraction. Yet, something was nagging at the back of Y/n’s head as she watched the nurse interact with Damiano. There was a familiarity in her eyes… Did she know who he was? Surely not.

“This will need an X-Ray to make sure it’s not broken,” the nurse concluded, finally letting go of her wrist. Damiano whispered a quiet ‘You okay?’ over to her, but she couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will bandage the scrapes a bit while we wait for a doctor. So, what brings you to Amsterdam today?”

“Work,” Y/n answered, trying to keep some degree of privacy, but Damiano didn’t seem to mind butting in immediately.

“I’m in a band, we’re on tour. She’s our assistant and overall angel.” She wanted to shoot him a look, both at the unnecessary honesty and the over-the-top way he was describing her, but a touch to her banged-up knee distracted her.

A doctor popped into the room quickly verified everything the nurse had told him And before she knew it she was being led down a hallway to get an X-Ray. Damiano stayed behind in the room.

“Cute couple, the two of you,” the nurse piped up next to her.

“Um, yeah, no. Not a couple. Just a working relationship.”

“You sure about that?”

Y/n almost wanted to stop dead in her tracks, ask the nurse what on earth had given her that idea, but she also knew she was here to get examined and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the person responsible.

“Very. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s made that crystal clear.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t look like you in a way that suggests he doesn’t like you. If anything, I would have guessed he was head-over-heels for you.”

Y/n was stumped for a reply. Was this woman making fun of her? She didn’t look like someone who would. So why would she say these things? With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Y/n decided she would have to talk to Damiano at some point. Have him either stand by his statement and back off, or explain what the hell he was doing. Because she was starting to lack comprehension about any of it.

She was glad the rest of the appointment seemed to fly by in a hurry, or maybe Y/n’s brain had simply gone into power-saving mode, not really taking it what as happening around her anymore. Her exhaustion was tangible. The X-Ray was done quickly enough, someone sent her back to the  examination room, and before she knew it, the doctor had announced that it was, in fact, not broken. A quick wrap around her wrist, some instructions on how to care for it (that Damiano seemed to listen to more closely than she did), and she was almost out the door. She was sure she would have fallen asleep on the examination table.  It was only the nurse quickly saying her goodbye and adding another comment that almost threw her off balance again.

“Bye, guys. And by the way, nice show yesterday. I promise I wasn’t the one who threw the bra.”

***

It was dark out by the time Y/n and Damiano made it back to the hotel. He had made sure to text the others, telling them to go for dinner without them, they’d be fine, and he figured she would need some rest. The hotel restaurant was quiet enough and he motioned towards it, but Y/n shook her head.

“I’ve got a few snacks in my room, but honestly, I’m not hungry at all. I just want to go to bed.”

Yet, tired as she was, it only took one pointed look for her to shut him up, so he simply nodded and led her towards the elevators.

“At least let me bring you to your room and see if you need any more help. And I can give you your wallet back.”

He could tell in the way she stiffened next to him, the way she barely reacted to his words, that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He was desperate to find out what was bothering her and why she was so distant, but he couldn’t figure it out. Was the kiss still playing on her mind? Was she uncomfortable with him? It was the last thing he wanted. He needed to show her he was willing to be there for her.

Closing the door of her room behind him, a shout rang through the room.

“These fucking things, I hate them!” She was loud and angry while trying to get her shoes off, but her voice was wavering and if he watched her in just the right light he was convinced he was seeing the beginning of tears forming in her eyes.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” he tried to soothe, unsure if he was going about it the wrong way, but quickly bending in front of where she was sitting on the bed. She kicked her heels once more in frustration, obviously unable to get them off with her wrist still compromised.

“Don’t shush me when it’s all your fault,” she whispered and he almost stopped dead in his tracks, but he figured she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He stayed quiet, against everything in his heart telling him to find out what she was talking about. Instead, he focused on removing her shoes, gentle touches against her bare skin. Looking up at her, he realised that she was studying him, watching his every move, and he concentrated even harder on being the perfect gentleman. Yet, when he pulled the second shoe off her, he couldn’t help letting his hand rest on her calf a little longer than necessary.

“Come on, let’s get you into some pyjamas,” he decided, getting up and putting some distance between them. Too afraid of getting ahead of himself, of letting his hands wander more than appropriate places, of saying something he shouldn’t. He threw what he gathered to be her sleepwear in her general directions. “If you need any help changing because of your wrist, let me know.”

He hoped his smile was as sincere as he meant it. Either way, she didn’t give him much of a reaction, grabbing the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. A few sharp hisses reached him through the door, but he knew better than to offer his help again.

He wasn’t sure what the acceptable place for him to sit was, but since the room didn’t offer anything but a worn-out armchair and the bed, he decided that choosing the far side of the mattress wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even realise she had left the en-suite until her voice reached him.

“We really need to talk, Damiano.” She sounded resigned and tired and he wished he could wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but it didn’t seem like the right time. As soon as she reached the side of the bed opposite him, she all but collapsed on it. She sleepily grabbed one of the many unnecessary hotel pillows they placed on the bed and nuzzled her face into it. 

“There will be more than enough time for that tomorrow,” he replied, grabbing the blanket and making sure she was fully covered by it. “It’s been a long day, try to get some rest.” 

She didn’t even manage to argue anymore, eyes already fluttering closed, breathing slowly becoming more steady. She was gorgeous like this. A soft calm overtaking the scene. No wall up that kept everyone else from her inner thoughts. No front that she put up in desperate attempts to remain professional. Just a softness etched into her features that highlighted her natural divine beauty.

He wanted to take her worries away. He hoped that whenever they did get to talk tomorrow, it would yield some clarity. The last thing he wanted was for her to ever feel this way. He had grown so attached to her, so obsessed with the idea of having her around, that he already feared the end of the tour. If she would give him any option to stay in her life, he would take it, whatever way it was.

Damiano barely noticed the way he was slipping down on the mattress, his fingers softly patting her head, eyelids getting heavy. The last thing on his mind was Y/n, sleeping soundly next to him and wishing for nothing but to make her happy.

***

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3  @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys @luvbadass @buttercup-beeee @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv  @tryymebitch @mell-bell @fenhakwe @solacestyles @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree @alina-exe @cherricola66  @supercorp-mari @onlykissystyless @thatonebraziliangirl @dannasixxworld @immrbrightside @lifeofa-fangirl @gr8rainbowpunk @que--sera--sera @unitersmoonshine @achilleveleno​

[minarcana]

He doesn't disappear from her sight, no matter how long Laurel looks. She wants to make a quick exit, but she can't look away from him to do so. He's not dying. She can sear him into her thoughts this way, garbed in Crystarium gear, hale and hearty, in a world where he didn't die. Isn't going to die.

Laurel's pinned under his attention like a moth with its wings spread on the etymologist's board. Somehow, it's terrifying. (Will this Haurchefant see the amount of blood trapped under her fingernails, the things she isn't proud of just by looking?) She swallows, forces a slow breath out. "You... didn't upset me." He's not the same. He can't be. That's impossible, and he doesn't know her. He doesn't need to know her, because that way he won't worry about her, that way he won't be on the same battlefield as her. "You just. Look exactly like someone I knew and." And lost, failed. A hero is one who keeps others safe. Laurel shakes her head, forces herself to release her tense grip on her scarf and necklace. A shake of the head and a push of her hair back. She'll be fine. She's fine.

This isn't his fault. She can't cry in front of him. "I'm sorry. It's my problem. I wasn't expecting to see you. Him. You. Yeah." Her voice is slowly coming back from quiet hesitancy, though there's still the faint echo of the tone warning of held back crying. "Hah. I'm Laurel, you're right. You said you wanted to bring me somewhere?"

What an utterly miserable joke the shard is playing on her. Still, for the sake of politeness, she steps forward and holds out her hand for him to take, if he wishes that method of greeting. If she grasps his hand too long, that's her own problem.

@minarcana x

myste ? mayhap the warrior is already weary from her travels throughout norvrandt, concern etching itself within haurchefant’s gentle gaze. he can’t help glancing over laurel for any injuries, lest she return to her friends in poor condition. all he finds is restricted posture and uncertainty — that he may be the problem here, and the way she speaks his name only cements his worry. you don’t know me, right ? oh, but it feels like he does after hearing of her bravery. he dare not speak that aloud.

‘ unfortunately we have not met yet. tis my belief i could never forget someone like you. ‘ he tries to remain lighthearted, regardless of any nagging hesitation at the back of his mind. the exarch may very well lose his mind if revealed his knight accidentally offended his favored hero. he offers a slight bow after taking a step back, providing space between them. ‘ you must be laurel ! the exarch has spoken highly of you, as i’m sure you’re already aware. truly, i — if i have upset you, i wish to ask your forgiveness. ‘

[hiraethenthusiast]

The Hollandairé | t.h.

pairing: ceo!tom x ceo! reader

word count: 16k+

synopsis: exes cross paths on a big event. will they be able to forget each other's mistakes?

warnings: language, sexual innuendos, mentions of an anxiety attack (if you squint), talks about miscarriage, my favourite angst.

a/n: well, well, well im back from a very shitty writers block! look at me, writing angst with exes? oof. can you tell that i absolutely love angst and makeouts in the end? i was somehow inspired by 'idfc' by blackbear to write this fic lol. it took some time and ofcourse i went overboard with it, so hope you enjoy! don't forget to like and reblog! (i even made a moodboard kinda thing uwuwu)

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"Conan I won't hesitate to knee you in the crotch if you don't stop pulling me off this sofa right this second" You tell your roommate, who is desperately trying to get you to go to a gala with him. Being a CEO brings its pros and cons. Pros being, you have a private jet, you're your own boss and you can shout at people with a reason. Cons being, annoyingly nice roommates. You had just shifted to a penthouse in downtown London with your friend Conan, because you refused to stay alone in this bigass house. (You tried living alone once, you were bored to death)

"Conan leave me alone yoo!" You said whining and hunching back into the sofa.

"Get the fuck up and get ready for the launch dude you promised me you wouldn't leave me hanging" Conan shouts over the voice of the t.v. blaring in the background. You pull you hand away from his grip and reach for the remote to shut off the t.v., focusing back on this tall red-headed figure in front of you.

"You know I don't like fancy shit." You grumble.

"It's YOUR fancy shit, get up Y/N." He says and reaches for your arms now, finally making you stand.

"Call Laura, I really don't want to go." You say pulling your phone out from your back pocket and handing it to him.

"If you haven't realised, your manager is the one who forced me to force you to attend the introduction of your fashion line" He fights back.

"- and Y/N. Hey, look at me. You've dreamt of this for how long? Almost all your life. And if you miss the chance to see your empire expand, it's gonna be devastating. You'll obviously miss the fashion show who's got the actual Rudy Pankow walking on a ramp, you'll also miss the opportunity to see people happy with YOUR work. Now get your ass up and get ready." He says and leaves the room, to get ready himself.

It's not that you don't want to go, you really do. Afterall, all of it is your hardwork. But the reason you're not going is because of that asshole. That asshole with whom you used to go out with once, the one who's current goal is to bring you down. The one and only, Tom Holland. You two used to date at some point, the ones who were in love actually, but the rivalry you two have got going on now has lead to you two knowing too much about each other. More than you know about yourself, the other knows it all. Small arguments turned into big ones, that eventually lead to the two of you leaving each other alone. You don't want to go because whenever you meet him, it all turns up into a big mess and your night is typically ruined, and you weren't in the mood for that, atleast not today. He's just a narcissistic bitch who thinks of nothing but degrading you. And that's the reason you don't want to go. Because you know if you talk to him one more time, these banters will persuade you.

But you do realise that you have to go. You have to go because you haven't gone to the last two launches for your perfume and swim line as well, and if you don't go today, Laura will actually end you.

So you just chug all your tea, leaving the kitchen with a grunt to go get ready.

"Hey Marco, can you send in that pantsuit I got done the other day? Look over for modifications if possible, although it looks great in just the solid colour, and please get it drycleaned." You tell your designer over the phone, to which he agreed and you go into your room to get your hair and makeup done.

"Wear a dress to the launch of your fashion line when it gets famous, yeah?"

"Pantsuits all the way Holland, you know I hate dresses."

"I know you do."

You remember the faint memory from over two years ago, that dream actually coming true, just without the person you dreamt it with.

You put your hair in a low bun with a middle part, giving you a classy formal look, and you do a almost non existent makeup look, only your eyes bold to accent with your outfit. Marco drops off the forest green pantsuit at your house, you giving it a twist with wearing a lace corset beneath the blazer.

"I look hot." You told yourself.

You and Conan leave for the event, you fidgeting in between 15 minute durations, Conan reassuring you that he'll be with you until the night ends.

That didn't last long. You lost Conan as soon as you entered the venue, so you occupied yourself with having conversations with other company owners, hearing how they're doing in the industry, blah blah blah.

"Do I look like I care?" You say to yourself.

You move ahead, only to cross paths with the one and only. He was wearing a cherry coloured perfectly tailored suit, adding a hint of Tom with the glasses. He looked good.

"And what do I owe this pleasure, Ms. Y/N?" He says, twirling his champagne glass in his hands.

"Look Holland I really don't have time for this shit, please take a goodie bag on your way home" You say with a bit of sass and start to move away, only to get your arm held back, making you bump in his chest.

"I see you wore the pantsuit you always wanted to wear at your event, angel " He says, making you pull away from him.

"Don't ever call me that again, and this is a warning." You were about to continue further with your answer, but you were utterly shocked to see the person in front of you.

"Is that the Y/N Y/L/N, in person, the one who's way too busy to answer my phone calls?" He says, making you laugh a bit.

"Jaeden?" You say, laughing heartily.

"In the flesh, tigeress." He says, doing grabby hands at you as an indication to pull you in a hug. You oblige and walk towards him and give him the biggest bear hug you've given anyone in two years. You pull back just to hit him on the chest once, playfully ofcourse.

"Tigeress. Oof haven't heard that in a while" You keep your conversation going on with Jaeden, while Tom is absolutely dumbfounded about whatever just happened in these past few seconds.

There's this hot guy named Jason or whatever, who calls you 'tigeress' and you aren't pestering him for calling you with a nickname but you definitely were ready to give Tom a piece of your mind when he called you 'angel'? Who is this guy?

Tom goes off to find Conan, who was situated at the bar downing a shot of tequila.

"Hey who's that guy Jason?" He asks him, pointing towards you and Jaeden in the middle of the hall.

"You mean Jaeden?" He says, biting onto a slice of lemon.

"Yeah whatever who is he?" Tom asks again, turning towards to bartender asking for a glass of whiskey.

"Why do you want to know?" Conan shoots back.

"Just curious. Can you just fucking tell me now?" Tom tries again, getting frustrated now.

"Chill dude. Jaeden used to work with Y/N a long time ago. He had this crush on her for like forever, but then Y/N went in for entrepreneurship and they were just not in contact with each other." He says.

"Crush huh?" Tom says, gripping onto his glass so tight that his knuckles almost turned white.

"Why do you look like you're about to murder someone?" Conan asks, getting concerned.

"Because I might." Tom says, grinding his teeth while forcing a smile.

The night goes by pretty smoothly, for you. You and Jaeden were clinged to each other almost the whole night, and then Tom watching you both from a distance, trying not to snap hard at people. He just took enough of it, he had to do something. He wasn't really sure why was he jealous, 'maybe because you love her' his heart said, but his mind crossing paths with a 'no you don't' in the middle. He was in a dilemma, but was mostly leaning towards his heart's side. He finally got up from his seat and walked towards you.

"Y/L/N." He says, keeping his composure.

"Yes?" You turn around to come face to face with him, laughing on something Jaeden had said.

"Board of Directors want to meet you on third floor. I was going that way only, wanted to inform you." He says.

"Oh okay. Jaeden I'll be back in a few. And tell me about that Mario Kart incident." You say, your laughter dying as you walk towards the elevator, motioning Tom to move as well. You both enter the elevator and you click the button for third floor.

"So Jaeden's a long lost friend, I assume?" He tries to small talk, failing miserably.

"Yeah, I used to work with him a long time back. Why do you ask?" You say, being the nicest you've been to Tom in two years.

"Just making small talk. So, exactly how long ago, you used to work with him?" He tries again.

"A really long time ago." You tell him.

"When we were dating?" He says, hesitating.

The elevator dings and you reach third floor, both of you moving into a very empty hallway.

"Why do you care Tom?" You say, making him frustrated even more.

"Because you're my fucking ex-girlfriend whom I'm worried about because that asshole has a mega crush on you" He says, making you jerk your head towards him.

"How many whiskeys have you had?" You ask him, because he was sounding oblivious that's for sure.

You turn around to open the meeting room to find it empty, making you glare at Tom once again.

"Why the fuck did you bring me up here Holland, where's the meeting?" You say, narrowing your eyes towards him.

"There is no meeting Y/N, the Board didn't show up this year, remember?" He says moving and fidgeting around the room.

"Then why did you bring me up here, dumbass?" That put him over the edge. He starts walking towards you making you take a few steps back, finally cornering you in the room.

"Because that guy is fucking flirting with you Y/N. That guy has been roaming around the whole night with my girl, touching and hugging my girl in front of me and you expect me to keep my calm? Huh? I don't fucking care okay? You're supposed to be mine and I was a jerk who let you go. I can't stand seeing you with other people. What the fuck is wrong with you Y/N, why did you leave me?!" He shouts at you, making your blood boil even more.

You push him back and stand in front of him, glaring as if you were going to rip his head off.

"No Tom, YOU left me, alright? I cried almost every night after that day when you left, and you didn't even have the empathy to give me a call. You, are too self-absorbed, and not me Tom. It was all you. I haven't been to even one of my launches just because I know you'll be there, you'll be there to put me down again. And why the fuck do you care about whom I talk to huh?" You shout at him.

"Why would I come to every single one of your launches Y/N?! To see you! To see the person who understood me more than I did, just to fucking see your face and calm my nerves!" He shouts back. He moves towards you and holds you chin to put your eyes at his eye level.

"Look at me Y/N. Look at me. Did we mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you? Look at me in the eyes and tell me you never loved me. Tell me I meant nothing to you and I'll leave this second. Tell me that this was all a lie." He says, making your eyes water.

"You know I can't tell you that."

"Then why do you keep hurting me Y/N?! You hurt me so much! You left me when I needed you the most! I wanted you and you weren't there-" He shouts again.

"SHUT UP TOM, SHUT UP! Stop it! Stop! Please. Stop." You're crying hysterically now, hunching up in a corner trying to calm yourself down. Tom immediately sees it and runs towards you holding your hands and cradling them.

"Hey, hey Y/N. Look at me, look at me baby. It's Tom. Hey baby. I'm here, yeah? I'm here. Stop crying come on babe, please. Love, look at me. I'm here." He says, now running his hand over your cheeks wiping your tears.

"Go away. Go away from me." Is all you say, which makes his ears perk and brings water to his eyes.

He stands up and moves out of the room, closing the door just to hear you crying again. He sits down on the floor with his back on the door now, crying, waiting for you to say something.

"Please, open the door." He says, bursting into tears and hugging himself with his arms, wishing it was you.

Fifteen minutes pass by and you still haven't said anything. Tom misses you so much, and it was so fucked up of you to leave him like this. He was hurt, but he could never stop loving you. Ever.

"Losing you would be a nightmare that I'd beg to be awaken from everyday." You say opening the door, your eyes blood red, hair disheveled making Tom look at you, whose eyes were blood red too.

"What?"

"I was pregnant, Tom." You tell him, making his eyes widen and holding your hand for comfort.

"The day-" You clear your throat "The day we fought is when we lost the baby. I was going to tell you I was pregnant that day, but then that happened." You were crying a bit more now, but still held you composure so you can handle Tom from now.

"The argument gave me too much stress and, and it was affecting the baby so as soon as you left, um, my stomach started aching really badly and, and yeah we lost our baby then. That's why I left." You say, you were crying on his shoulder now, intentionally ignoring his reaction because you knew it would hurt him.

"We, we- lost our baby?" He says, a bit shocked but choking on his tears. You remain silent.

"Hey, hey. Listen. It's okay. It wasn't your fault. It was mine. I shouldn't have fought with you. You were already really worried and I just added onto your pressure. I'm so sorry baby I'm so so sorry." He was full-on crying now, he sniffled in your neck because he was too afraid to show his emotions.

"It wasn't your fault Tommy, it was ours." You say, running your hand in his curls. The way you missed his chestnut curls. It was all good again, well atleast you hoped.

Tommy. That always brought butterflies in his stomach.

You talked everything out in the bathroom, while washing your faces and cleaning up. You both understood that everything was going back to normal, just like the old times. One conversation lead to another, and you spent two hours on the bathroom floor just laughing and having gossip.

"It's been a while." You say laughing, looking at your watch.

"Yeah."

"Why did you say 'my girl' Tom?" You ask him directly.

"Hm?"

"You called me 'my girl' in the conference room. Why?" You tell him, and he instantly remembers that he did do that.

"You're in my head almost everyday Y/N. Even when you're not supposed to be. It shouldn't have been this hard letting go, but it was. I still love you, even if you don't." He says, taking some tissue paper off the counter.

"Who said I don't love you?" You say, making his eyes widen.

"Wha- wh- what are you implying here?" He stumbles upon his words, making you laugh.

"I still love you, you goof."

"Y/N you have to be serious you're making me want things I can't have." He says wholeheartedly.

You say nothing but grab him by his collar and kiss him with full force. After two years, you felt those soft lips on yours again, reminiscing every moment you had missed in these past years. They felt the same, soft and plump, just as if they were made for you. They fit in with yours like a puzzle, that was meant to be solved by these two hearts which were tangled, but now, in a right way. Tom kissed back almost immediately, feeling your lips was like a dream come true. A recurrent dream in his mind. You both pull back to see red and puffy lips and give out a light laugh. He doesn't stop, he keeps leaving peppery kisses all over your face mumbling sweet words again and again.

"I missed you so, so much angel." he says leaving a kiss on your nose.

"I missed you too bubba." you say leaving a small peck on his lips.

"Let's go now, we've been here for almost two hours." You start to move towards the door, but get pulled back by your waist.

"Tell Jaeden to maintain distance, yeah?" He says.

"Or what?" You say in a playful tone.

"Babygirl, I think you've forgotten what I'm capable of." He says, kissing your neck.

"I think I have. And stop kissing me I look shit." You say, laughing.

"I really don't care. You still look hot and I'm trying not to kiss you senseless right now." He says leaving another harsh suck on your skin, which can hopefully be covered by your blazer.

"Are you going to eyefuck me all night or are you going to do something about it?" You say, now kissing Tom's sweet spot.

"Finish this event in the next half an hour. I'll see you at my house babe." He says leaving one last peck on your lips.

You both reach downstairs after fixing your makeup and hair, you reach upto the stage and and hold onto the mic.

"Thankyou all for attending the event. We look forward to having more business with you! Don't forget to post something about our line 'The Hollandairé' on your social media platforms and don't forget to tag us! We are, The Y/L/N's thankyou have a good night!"

He listen to you and smirks to himself, because you do do what you say.

"I'm going to name my first fashion line 'The Hollandairé' " You say making a banner with your hands.

"And I'll be right with you then baby" He says, kissing your cheek.

Looks like he kept his promise too.

tagging some friends whom i think would like to read!:

@hollandslittlekoala @hollandsmushroom @leafy-holland @tomsoxytocin @scarletspideyy @t-lostinworlds

(pls do tell me if you don't want to be tagged further on!)

don't forget to reblog!

ilysmmmm. tpwk y'all!

[stxleslyds]

Also, the writers' failure to understand, every crime Jason committed had a motive. Attack other criminals? Holy warrior destined to purify the world of evil. Attack Bruce? Joker's still alive. (Oh, Jason, it's much worse than that.) Attack Tim? A parody of what he once was. He wasn't just a "bad boy". He was dangerously insane.

Hi, Anon! Yup, there seems to be a lot of things that writers have gotten confused about Jason Todd/Red Hood and the biggest one is his motivations to kill certain criminals.

Let’s be honest, Judd Winick set a golden path for the upcoming Red Hood writers. But each and every writer that used Red Hood in their stories completely missed the point of Jason’s character. All of them. It’s so incredibly wild to me that every other writer read UtRH and came up with whichever version of Jason they came up with.

Let’s list the writers that completely missed the point.

Geoff Johns in Teen Titans vol.3 #29.

Geoff Johns was one of the first to completely mischaracterize Jason, why on earth would Jason go to the Titans Tower to beat up Tim? This is not me saying that Jason would never do that because Jason thinks of Tim as his brother or a friend or the person that he can trust the most from the Bat-Clan (can you believe Lobdell tried to sell us that one?), this is me saying that Jason wouldn’t have done that because he couldn’t have given less of a fuck about Tim’s existence.

When Jason found out that Bruce had another Robin he wasn’t bothered by his “replacement” he was mad at Bruce for having another child playing hero after he lost his life as a fifteen-year-old. Jason didn’t even think of Tim as his replacement as fandom likes to make us believe, Jason called Tim “pretender”. And that was that, but to go from minimal recognition to go out of his way to beat him up at Titans Tower is a massive mischaracterization.

Paul Dini in Countdown (to Final Crisis).

Paul Dini in Countdown did absolutely nothing with Jason, I am sorry but that’s all he did. Him writing Jason was like watching a dog trying to catch their own tail. He started with a pretty basic take on UtRH Jason, then he added a bit of Jason being an annoying man with Donna, then we had the jealousy arc because apparently, Jason had the hots for Donna but she didn’t want anything to do with him and he was all angsty when she paid attention to Kyle instead of him, and then, later on, he had that whole Red Robin bullshit (I am sorry about this, but I absolutely hated that, it was so dumb, I am so glad it didn’t last long because it was just too bad), and after all that mix of just not interesting stuff he went right back to the Jason that he had at the very start. It was a waste of time, but I guess that he had to be there because he was an anomaly and all that. I just think that was DC’s first try at making Jason Todd/Red Hood something more than just a street-level vigilante and they failed miserably.

Tony S. Daniel in Batman: Battle for the Cowl.

Even though the first two did make mistakes with Jason’s characterizations, this man was the first to just throw UtRH out of the window and make up his very own version of Jason Todd. And his version was horrendous, that Jason had no problem with attempting to kill children and innocent people, he also really wanted to be Batman because Gotham needed a Batman and he wanted to be the person to wear the Cowl and he was looking for a Robin for himself.

I know, the whole concept is the perfect opposite of what Jason Todd and Red Hood were in UtRH. Every aspect of BftC Jason is based on nothing.

Jason wanting to be Batman because Gotham needed Batman is just the beginning of what’s wrong in this book. Jason became the Red Hood (in part) because he believed that Batman and his ways weren’t what Gotham needed so he made a better version of Batman with Red Hood (according to him) because Red Hood did what Batman refused to do. Another thing that is just wrong is Jason wanting, Damian, Tim or Dick to be his Robin, there is just so much wrong with this, first of all, Jason wanted Batman to stop having Robin because child soldiers ran the risk of dying at a very young age and that’s exactly how he saw the whole thing because that was what had happened to him. Second, if Jason was mad at Bruce for getting another Robin why would he now want one of his own to team up with his Batman? Damian was a child, Tim was someone that apparently Jason hated (because Jason beating Tim was mentioned in this event), and then Jason actually asked Dick Grayson, Nightwing, to be his Robin? Listen, there is no way that was Jason, nothing about him makes sense, even taking into account that Jason had beaten Tim already in this event Jason actually tried to kill both Tim and Damian (it might have been just one of them but yeah, it still doesn’t make sense).

I just don’t think that Tony S. Daniel knew who Jason Todd was, maybe he got confused but the thing is, his “villainous” and deranged version of Jason Todd allowed a villainous and deranged version of Red Hood to happen with the next writer that I will be talking about.

Grant Morrison in Batman and Robin vol.1 #3-6.

This was the birth of the villainous, deranged and bloodthirsty Red Hood. There is absolutely no trace of UtRH Jason here, not even if we are looking at the opposite of things like we could do with Daniel’s Jason. Grant Morrison wanted Dick and Damian to have a villain to match their Batman and Robin and they decided to give us a red-haired-pill-headed-red hood. Everything from Morrison’s characterization of Jason is crazy, from the red hair (hello pre-crisis) to the awful Joker’s Red Hood looking suit, everything was just weird.

I still don’t believe that was Jason, to be honest, I would rather think that version of Jason was actually a rouge Skrull that came all the way from the Marvel Universe and lost his way in Gotham City. Maybe when he made the jump between universes, he got too much information and got confused and took the form of the wonkiest Jason Todd he could come up with.

This Jason was absolutely deranged, he knew exactly what he was doing and he didn’t care if innocents died. This Jason was the one that got locked up in Arkham. This is the Jason that Dick put in Arkham for Jason and everybody else’s safety.

Dick putting that Jason in Arkham wasn’t a bad thing or something that anyone can use to shit on Dick Grayson (not on this house). This Arkham was reformed and that Jason knew that if he stayed in that new Arkham he would stay away from trouble, but here is the thing, that Jason loved trouble, so he took all the tests to prove he wasn’t insane and asked to be transferred to Blackgate (where all the Red Hood’s enemies were). That Jason didn’t ask to be sent to Blackgate because the Joker was a cell away from his in Arkham, he did it so he could go on a killing spree in Blackgate (which he did when he got there).

Skrull Jason was just bloodthirsty and nothing like UtRH Jason, he had no motive other than just killing for fun or whatever. He didn’t want to protect Gotham and he couldn’t have cared less about the drug trade in Gotham. In Batman and Robin vol.1. Jason Todd was unrecognizable. And luckily, we never saw him again.

Scott Lobdell in Everything that he ever wrote about Red Hood.

This one is pretty self-explanatory. Lobdell was the king of overpowering Jason, he was the one that drove Red Hood farther and farther away from his street-level vigilante status. He continuously added more to him, he was a big deal because he was meant to take down Ra’s al Ghul, he was a big deal because he was the only human to train in the All-Castle and learned to summon the All-Blades.

This Red Hood’s morals and ideals were kind of gone, there just wasn’t any kind of interest in Jason to get rid of drugs or try to control its trade in Gotham, he just had no interest in street-level threats, everything was extraordinary in both New 52 and Rebirth. If he wasn’t in space he was in some mystical land. His friends and allies became even more and more powerful, his level of power was completely off compared to the others. His personality was ever-changing and quite honestly you could barely see the Jason that he once was.

This Jason also was very inconsistent in the way that he felt towards people (obviously because Lobdell is a shitty writer), he wanted to follow Batman’s rules and was shown as someone that still had fond memories of his life with Bruce before he died but was also willing to let those memories go, to move on? Maybe? I don’t know. But he changed his mind about Bruce and following his rules or not for a very long time. Jason was also a little bitch about Dick, and he was a little bitch because he (Lobdell) never gave the reader or anyone a concrete reason as to why he hated him so much and then in Rebirth he decided that Dick wasn’t that bad. Also, Jason went from “Willis Todd, abusive husband and father that deserved to die” to “Willis Todd abusive husband and father but he sent me letters when he was in prison and Penguin had him killed so now, I really want to avenge him”. Yeah, I don’t really know why that happened and like most of Lobdell’s arcs and stuff it was never really completed or well thought out.

Lobdell’s Jason characterization was a mess for ten years and that’s the prime reason why Jason is a character with no solid background, story or future.

James Tynion IV in Red Hood and the Outlaws.

Tynion’s Jason Todd was a hero, he was like a mini Tom King Batman. Everything he did was right and there was just no way that you could bamboozle him. This Jason was able to hold to Blades that drained his soul as well as hosting the Untitled in his body (that were able to drain his soul too) and on top of all that he completed his journey of the Chosen One by making those ancient martial arts moves that he learned before he was Robin even though Talia hadn’t been able to master it yet.

Scott Snyder, Tim Seeley in Batman Eternal and Batman and Robin Eternal.

A mess, this was pure New 52 levels of bullshit and they all just wanted to push the “Batfamily” and while Dick was gone, they were trying to make Jason fill the void that Dick left in Batman events. It didn’t work at all and all they did was mess around with Jason’s characterization more.

Geoff Johns in Three Jokers.

I have talked enough about Johns’ takes on Jason Todd and Red Hood, but let me tell you something real quick, if a writer thinks that the best they can do with a character is make them give up their morals/ideals for an unrequited love interest, then they can keep that idea for themselves. Geoff Johns wrote a book that was absolutely not needed and then proceeded to butcher every characterization that he could, Three Jokers was three issues long and he managed to add more trauma to Jason’s torture, push the narrative of Jason being at fault for his own murder and make Jason’s motivations to be the Red Hood weak enough to make him want to give up his work for a woman that he barely knows (and doesn’t like him at all).

Joshua Williamson in Future State: Red Hood and Robin #5.

Now, with Williamson I have issues only when he writes Jason, not because his stories are bad, don’t get me wrong, I would have completely enjoyed FS: Red Hood if it weren’t for the completely unnecessary Rose/Jason side plot he had going on. Jason was clearly working undercover for some people that he hated working with. He had to arrest or kill “masks” (vigilantes, just like he “used” to be) for the Magistrate.

His ideas were pretty solid, Jason did the job but he never killed the masks and actively didn’t trust the Magistrate but he was working there to tear them apart from within, and that’s amazing if Williamson had given us Jason Todd/Red Hood working undercover to dismantle an organization I would have been really happy.

But that’s not all he gave us, even if I just forget about his failed attempt at giving Jason a relationship, I can still see that Williamson is the kind of writer that wants (or is just following DC) to make the “Batfamily” happen no matter how dumb and out of place it looks in comics’ canon. So, I am a little bit weary, any writer that leans too much towards making Jason and Bruce work together and become a family makes me want to scream, but I do understand that is just me, many people want those two to be buddy-buddy, I, personally, would love to see Jason kick Bruce in the balls and tell him to lose his number.

Chip Zdarsky in Urban Legends: Cheer.

Ah, yes, I remember the days in which I thought that this could have been something good. Well, I was utterly wrong and I suffered all the way through this mini. I feel like now I can safely say that Zdarsky only wanted to write a Batman book but DC told him, “Hey you can write Batman but it has to be within a Red Hood story, but don’t worry, you don’t have to know much about the Hood guy, just come up with something and write Batman around that”.

I know that’s what happened because I read that story and all we got from it was horrible characterizations for pre-Robin Jason, Robin Jason, Jason Todd and Red Hood. I don’t know how he did it but yes, he managed to mess it all up.

From Jason not really wanting to be Robin and acting recklessly every step of the way, to secret desires of a perfect family with Bruce and so many other people that he couldn’t care about, Urban Legends: Cheer is the perfect book to avoid at all costs if you believe that the concept of “Batfamily” is the biggest lie, DC is trying to profit off this time around.

Zdarsky also nerfed Jason in ways that I thought DC only wanted to nerf Dick Grayson. But I was able to see that I was wrong. Zdarsky’s run also pushed some of the most disastrous narratives that DC really wants readers to believe like: Robin Jason wasn’t good at his job, he was too reckless and ultimately his death was his own fault. Yay! I want to cry!

I will give Zdarsky two points for at the very least showing that Red Hood wants to protect children and that he has a huge issue with how the drug trade is controlled and abused in Gotham City, it had been a while since we had seen that aspect of Jason’s Red Hood make an appearance.

-

It’s just too many writers completely missing the point of Red Hood’s character or simply writers agreeing to destroy Jason’s uniqueness in the DC Universe so DC (as the publisher) can further push the abomination that is the “Batfamily” in comics’ canon.

I do agree with you Anon when you say that Jason isn’t just a “bad boy” but I also don’t think that we can call UtRH Jason “dangerously insane”. Personally, I will only use that last description for BftC and Batman and Robin Jason, those two were dangerously insane indeed.

UtRH Jason was very meticulous in who he wanted dead and who got to live. He entered Gotham’s most dangerous world and he had to make a big entrance, he invited the eight most prosperous street dealers to a meeting, showed up with the decapitated heads of each of their right-hand men and an AK-47 and said:

“I am offering you a deal. I will be running the drug trade from now on. You will go about your business as usual. You will kick up forty percent to me. That is a much better deal than the Black Mask will give you. In return, you will have total protection from both the Black Mask and Batman. The catch? You stay away from kids and schoolyards. No dealing to children, got it? If you do, you’re dead.”

This was Red Hood! Red Hood wanted to control the drug trade in Gotham because he knew that Gotham is far too corrupt and filled with drug lords for him to just want to eradicate drugs from Gotham. If he had tried that he would have been a dumbass, but he wasn’t. He didn’t want to start a gang war and get innocent people killed because of it, he wanted to set the rules of his new Empire and he had to start with the street-level drug dealers, from there he grew until he became a major pain in Black Mask’s ass.

We went from Jason wanting to control the drug trade and take over Gotham’s underworld so people like Black mask couldn’t have people work for him (or being dependent on him) when they were still in high school or were in a vulnerable position, to Jason fighting a war for a mystic land because he was their “Chosen One”. DC really wanted to do something grand (yet boring) with Jason instead of sticking to a street-level vigilante that could have become a Drug Lord to control the drug trade of a city that is so filled with crime and corruption that it can’t be saved by anyone.

Batman doesn’t eradicate crime, he “controls” it, puts a blank it over it, lets it nap up until it wakes up once more to make more mess.

Red Hood had other plans, certain criminals didn’t get to nap, or, better said, they would get to nap forever.

So, no. I wouldn’t call that “dangerously insane”, I will call that “vigilante that believes himself judge, jury and executioner” of a city that is drowning in crime and corruption.

Anyway, I hope you have a really nice week Anon and thank you so much for sending me this ask!

[kettlequills]

The Vestige fails. Molag Bal is slain, and the necromancy cult made newly devout by the ascension of their King of Worms floods through the faction war, uniting sundered Tamriel against their predations on mortal souls. Vanus Galerion raises his guild of life-loving mages and lamp-light knights and flings them into the fray, and war consumes them hungrily. However powerful the Worm God of Schemes is, he is only one Prince against an entire world. The anchors are struck free, the wormgates sealed, and the necromancers driven back to their tombs and their rituals. For a time, all is quiet.

But then the whispers start.

-

"O Great Mage," the Lord of Domination purrs, the first time. His voice is sickly-sweet, overwhelming, and utterly inhuman. Inhumane. It rattles around his skull like a curse, refusing to give up its icy echo. Vanus stands stock still with his lunch tray in his hands and feels the chill of Coldharbour creep down his neck. Someone, somewhere, moans long and low in terrible pain.

"No," he says, briskly, and strides into the sun.

-

"Usurper," the King of Worms hisses, next, some weeks later. He has made some effort; the voice that comes across is sibilant, silky, but might have been a man's, once. It is accompanied not by clashing chains but by the prickling sense of magic being gathered, raising the hairs on his arms, itching the backs of his teeth. It feels like a magic duel, of possibility, of beginning; the sort a young Vanus would have cut his teeth on back in those long, summer days, when he filled his days with study and his nights with company, company with long blonde hair like silk, eyes of ice, and a hunger for all the dark mysticism Vanus avoided. He sleeps alone, these days, and his days are spent grading essays and signing papers.

Vanus eyes the dark space of the cupboard he is stacking books into. Even after all these years, it never feels right to lock books away. But these, the journals and research of a woman whose mind has been plundered by the Prince of Madness, deserve better than public display.

His teeth grit. Did so many need to be lost to Daedra and power, from one man's greed?

"Absolutely not," he snaps, and slams the door firmly shut.

-

"Vanus," murmurs his once-lover, and Vanus closes burning eyes.

The stars are the only light, and his chest and cheeks are wet from tears and sweat. The nightmare lingers at his lips, along with the taste of the sweet Psijic wine on an old lover's lips.

His heart squeezes with a great and unbearable ache. He is so tired, of being the one who survives, carries on, forges ahead.

Why couldn't any of them listen, when he warned them?

"I can't help you, Mannimarco." He sounds tired, to his own ears. Old, and wearied, worn thin. A weak man, a mortal man; nothing of what the Worm Prince has become. "You did this to yourself."

"Vanus," comes the voice, so nearly what Vanus remembers, if he ignores the sulphuric, sepulchral echo of a thousand thousand screaming souls lost to the maw of power-lust.

But that is the difference between them, Vanus does not ignore, does not put aside or reject what he does not wish to hear. Not now, when it is too late to save Mannimarco, and not before, when Vanus believed he still had a chance of softening his heart with love alone.

So he hears it, he hears it all. The agony of all those torn and sacrificed souls, the torture of Coldharbour's miserable existence, the dying bellow of its former master bleeding out his death-wound to a lich's curse. *The* lich, for there has never been, and never will be again, someone quite like the man Vanus loved, in all his terrible beauty. And he hears the pain in Mannimarco, the edge of loss to his plea, his desperation, his longing.

His fear.

His love.

Vanus strikes harshly at his tears, and forces himself not to turn back. There is nothing he can do, now.

-

For a time, he believes it. For a time.

-

The necromancers are turning up dead. This, in of itself, would almost be a good thing, were it not for the state of their bodies. Perfect, not a death wound on them. But, of course, for the stitches.

VANUS, the thread spells, in shaky, wobbly lines, halfway up the orc's ashen thigh. THE REVENANT MOON, reads another, adorning the back of a svelte Nord. ARTAEUM. MARUKH. TRECHTUS. MANTELLA. VANUS.  *VANUS.* There are more, in Daedric lettering, harsh and spiked, that Vanus refuses anyone permission to translate. They burn the bodies, hot enough to reduce bones to ash, and shatter every purple soul gem they see, cropping up like corpseweed between the tower steps.

It does not stop the whispers.

-

Vanus leaves the Mages Guild. They don't need him, not anymore, and the politics, the lies, the manoeuvring and the paperwork and the endless, endless stares, get to him. He takes up a quiet house tucked out of the way and occasionally, a student or two. Most of his days are spent disgustingly ruggedly, wearing his horse's shoes to the thinness of copper and himself to exhaustion chasing more worms. There are always more, writhing wetly under the soul, dark students suckling for the power of their master. The Three Banners war has ground itself into steady progress, crushing the weight of bodies and souls uncounted. Cyrodiil is a plane of hell beyond reckoning, with soldiers fighting in the streets and spilling blood for a moment's recognition, an hour's glory, before they too are cut down. The Princes are astir, reaching lightless fingers through the weave of the worlds to cause trouble; Nocturnal, Mehrunes, Meridia. Mannimarco.

It is not, strictly, his job. But as Vanus sets his staff into the ground and conjures fire, fire, more fire, enough to burn bone to ash - even bone carefully carved with an imp's claws to read his name in a thousand texts, a thousand languages - he knows he is not foolish enough to pretend, any longer, that it is not his problem.

-

His first breath drawn in Coldharbour, come the end, seems inevitable.

-

Vanus' back hits the ground and his breath is driven from his lungs - in the same heartbeat, Mannimarco has his wrists seized in one vast claw and another frantically searching for the buckle of his belt.

"No," gasps Vanus, and Mannimarco pauses.

His cold, cruel eyes search Vanus, burn him, like a beacon. He has never liked being denied, Vanus thinks he likes it even less, now he is Lord of Domination.

But he is not Molag Bal.

Mannimarco releases him and stalks away. Heart pounding, Vanus feels a jolt of sickness at the tail that swings behind him as he goes. He is not Molag Bal. But for how much longer, Vanus wonders, will he be Mannimarco?

-

"If you grab me like that again," Vanus gets out as steadily as he dares - which is very, he is surprised to note - "I will leave. Do not touch me without my consent."

"So dramatic," says Mannimarco, with a swish of his forked tail. But he doesn't step closer, doesn't break the invisible ring of space around Vanus.

"Of course," says Vanus with all the pique and exhaustion this nonsense has rightly deserved, "You, Mannimarco, King of Worms, would never once stoop to indulge drama."

That earns him a silky laugh, delight brightening in those marshfire eyes. "My friend, you know me so well. Are you so confident you can truly leave, so easily?"

"Why, do you plan to try keeping me here?" Vanus shoots back, and Mannimarco's insectoid gauntlets curl around the head of his wormstaff, and his laugh around the point of Vanus' ear.

"Do I need to?" Mannimarco replies, and that smirk - rogueish, slanted, sly - is just the same, just the same as it was a lifetime ago on those summer shores, when he used it to win sweet kisses and sweeter nights. Why, why, are the gods so unkind as to let him keep this, when so much of him is washed away?

He still makes Vanus burn.

-

"Why did you do it?" Vanus asks. He sounds more hopeless than angry to his own ears, spiteful when he tries to rally. "Why couldn't you just..."

"-Be content with a small life?" Mannimarco looks sidelong at him, the flaming pits of cold blue that dominate his eyes flaring. "Were *you,* O Great Mage?"

"I didn't ask them to call me that," but the heat is in his cheeks, and he can't deny the small kernel of pleasure that still burns like an ember there, in the hollow void where spite at a dead man who thought to take books from children and light from lives still thrives. No, he didn't ask - but hadn't he still gone, raised a Guild with himself at its head, permitted their adulation, for a time, only a time? "That's not the same, and you know it."

He is no self-denying Psijic monk, not anymore, but there is a fair distance between that and a Daedric Lord.

Mannimarco puts a great hand down. Vanus feels the icy heat burning from it like a physical wall, and has to swallow around the strength of his response; wordless, trembling in its immensity, utterly unnameable. Mannimarco's nails are claw-tipped, his fingers elongated and spindly, the pads stained purplish with soul-essence. Faint scars silver in the misty blue-black light line the delicate forking where veins would be, on a mortal man, like his skin is nothing more than a shroud pulled over rot and scale and the monster beneath. A caricature of a necromancer's flesh, of *his* flesh.

"I do," he says. "But I have faith in your capacity to understand, Vanus."

Side by side on the rail, the space Mannimarco leaves between their hands throbs like a wound.

-

After some deliberation, Vanus starts talking to the Daedra. There are some, he finds, who are freer with their tongues than others; for a price. Lyranth Fool-Killer takes one look at him and demands a fellow daedra's heart. When he queries her, she scoffs.

"Bleeding heart," she says. "You want to *save* them, all the souls here? I can open a portal for you, wherever you think's better than here." Her voice drips with sarcasm, like he is suggesting something very small, very stupid, and very mortal.

"Fine," says Vanus, and gets his staff.

-

Mannimarco joins him in killing, sometimes. Sometimes he watches, one ankle cocked insouciantly over his knee, a smirk on his proud, thin lips, like Vanus is performing a show for him alone. He stands only when Vanus has finished wiping the sweat from his brow, and summons to his hand a staff as twisted as it was once familiar.

When the next wave comes, the Worm Prince is no gentler to his own subjects then he was with the innocents of Nirn. It is sickening, fighting alongside him, what he has become.

Yet, it is also ... familiar, and even, sometimes, a little fun.

Covered in blood, his fine hair matted with it, his horns glittering and his eyes alight, he is diamond gorgeous, arrogance streaming off him beautiful and perfect and cold. He smirks at Vanus, and he doesn't say a word; he doesn't need to.

Vanus doesn't want to think about what that makes him, either of them, that he knows just why Mannimarco smiles.

-

For a time, he will manage it. For a time.

[rogue-durin-16]

MATCHUP FOR:

@celie-voss

My name's Marie, I'm 26, my pronouns are she/her and I'm a bisexual ace.

My most defining trait is probably my humor, my sarcasm and the faces I make (mostly i don't even know I'm grimacing until someone reacts to the face I make). Also I always cary some sweets with me (my love language is food and cooking and I always try to provide some sweets for my friends.)

My flaws are mostly my mental issues. Some people say I'm smart aleck, I know a lot of stuff (unnecessary and nerdy things mostly) and am kinda verbal incontinent, so stuff just blurts out sometimes. I live in chaos, but I guess that because of my ADHD.

I'm kinda shy (you know why) and I seem very cold and unapproachable until you meet me, than I'm bubbly and like a excited Chihuahua. I love to gossip, mostly about royals (it's a family thing) and I love drama, eventhough had a lot of that in my own life.

I'm a infp-t and deep down, behind my sarcastic and sometimes cold appearance, a little romantic. I'm a pure Hufflepuff with some Slytherin traits (depends on my phases) and I love cars (old muscle cars) and animals (especially big and scary dogs, just want to pet these good Doggos) Oh, and I guess my driving style is one of my flaws, been called Panzerfahrer within my group of friends. But hey, no risk no fun, right? I mean I grew up with jackass soooo... S My taste in music is wide ranged, from classic music, metal and everything alternative, to rock'n'roll, rap and some medival bands. In my freetime I mostly watch movies or tv series, I always need some noise.

I'm chubby with midlenght hair, mostly dyed red or orange, I have some piercings, flesh tunnels in my ears and some tattoos. I love cozy and oversized shirts and sweaters, chucks and ripped jeans. My most recognizable features are my freckles and my always bright colored glasses.

My hobbies are reading and writing, singing (I used to play bass, ukulele, keyboard and tried to learn guitar), knotting bracelets, shooting (been in a sports shooting club and I own a bow), cooking and driving.

From Stranger Things I Ship You With:

Vickie

Ship Dynamic:

Choir Nerd x Band Geek™

Quote:

«All these people think love's for show but I would die for you in secret».

Duffers give my wife a surname challenge.

You kinda give off Robin vibes ngl.

Vickie thought you wanted to kill her at first and I'm 100% certain about this. You just looked mean

But also so pretty? Platonically of course because she's definitely not attracted to girls. Like, at all, but women are so pretty, specially you, you're so pretty—

You get introduced by Robin probably because 1)It Takes One To Know One and 2)she's in band with Vickie and in drama with you.

After talking like five minutes with you Vickie realizes two things; you're definitely the opposite of mean, and she definitely likes girls.

Your sarcasm and humor makes her dead ass snort. She gets loose with you and she's actually kinda brutal sometimes.

You encourage her to get a tattoo and she's anxious the whole way there, but for sure she'll get more because it was so fun.

She's definitely the one to ask you out. And then she literally dies.

Chaotic couple but like, love that for you.

You give off the vibe of two grandmas who have been married for DECADES.

You're so romantic around each other but like, hush, no one has to know.

You two could plan a successful, traceless murder together (Ravenclaw x Hufflepuff) and I don't even know how to explain this but that's some couple goals shit.

INFP x ENFP SUPREMACY.

She'll drag you anywhere with her. Maybe it's the grocery store, maybe it's Canada. You'll never know, she's just random like that.

Vickie gets super giddy when you cook for her. She definitely tries to help at some point and fails miserably.

Now she just sits by the kitchen counter and rambles to you about any gossip she got from band that day.

She sports the brightest smile while you introduce her to your plant babies (two plant moms here I'm telling you).

You two are The Helpers. Always willing to lend a hand. The both of you run to the gym after the "Earthquake" when you find out they organized a shelter/infirmary.

I'm talking SPRINT to your car. Lost no time in getting there (thanks to your... Driving style.)

Talking about driving style. This woman will smile like a maniac when you drive her around. Everyone's like "Vickie no, you're going to die" and she's just climbing into the passenger seat like 😃.

You taught Vickie how to knit and she gifted you the ugliest scarf you've ever seen. You love it.

Some people may not understand the way you live, it's so chaotic and hard to keep up with, but you and Vickie just Know How To Do It, so you're in constant tandem.

[intheticklecloset]

Give Up, Kacchan! (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: Bakugou gets stuck under his bed and has to resort to asking Deku for help. But when he arrives, Deku can't pass up the opportunity to wreck him without retaliation for once.

A/N: Hehehehe! Finally, I get to share the latest installment in the "Give Up, Deku!" storyline! I've been trying to find a way to make this particular scenario happen for so long - stuck tickles was a perfect excuse! I hope you love it as much as I do! Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 1,577

~~~

It was one in the morning. There was no way anyone was coming to help Bakugou out of his predicament.

The blonde huffed out a sigh, irritated with himself, and with his phone. He gripped the device in one hand, awkwardly navigating to his contacts and typing out a message to Kirishima. He waited for five minutes, then sighed again. No luck. He’d have to try someone else. But who would be awake at this hour?

He knew. Bakugou hated to admit it – hated to have to resort to this – but he knew who else would be awake at one in the morning.

Another few minutes later, there was a soft knock on his door, and a quiet, timid voice said, “Kacchan?”

Bakugou groaned into the carpet underneath his bed. He hated this bed – hated how short it was – and he hated his phone for falling between the bed and the wall, forcing him to crawl under to retrieve it, only for him to be unable to get back out again.

“I don’t want to hear a word,” Bakugou muttered, listening to his door close again and Deku’s footsteps on his bedroom floor. “Just get me out of here.”

“What…how did you…?”

“My stupid phone fell, all right? I said I didn’t want to hear a word from you. Just help me out of here!”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Bakugou thought Deku was about to leave. But then he felt him grab onto his ankles and tug, slowly but surely pulling him backwards, out from under his too-short bed. As he went, his t-shirt rolled up to his chest, exposing his back and stomach, but he didn’t care. He just wanted out.

Then, all of a sudden, he stopped moving. A weight settled on his ankles, a light touch brushed across his bare soles.

“Deku,” he growled, “don’t you dare.”

The only response he got was ten fingers scribbling into his arches, up to his heels, down to the balls of his feet and his toes, and he felt the laughter bubbling inside of him before it came spilling out in waves.

Bakugou was going to kill him.

“Deheheheheheku! Deku, you ihihihihihidiot, knock it ohohoff!”

More scribbling along the tops of his feet, dragging fingernails along the sides of them. He wasn’t far enough out from under his bed to be able to move yet – all he could do was lay there and laugh into the carpet, squirming his upper body and trying to scrunch up his toes as best he could.

“Nohohohohohoho! Deheheheheku, you neheheheheherd!” He laughed for several moments before it hit him that he wasn’t getting any kind of response. Not even teasing. “Why ahahahahahren’t you sahahahahaying anything?!”

“You said you didn’t want to hear a word,” Deku replied, and Bakugou could hear the smirk in his voice. He was enjoying this far too much. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“Lehehehehehehehet me gohohohohohoho, you mohohohohohohoron!”

“Oh, Kacchan, how could I possibly let this opportunity pass me by?” Deku teased, grabbing the toes of his left foot and pinning them down, dragging his nails up and down the now immobile sole. Bakugou hated himself for how loudly he shrieked. “We have tickle fights all the time now, and you’ve tickled me without retaliation in the past. But I’ve never – not even once – gotten to tickle you without you being able to fight back at all. I want to savor this moment.”

“Stahahahahahahahap, Deku!” Bakugou fisted his hands into the carpet, his phone lying in front of him, screen-up, still with the words he’d texted to Deku facing him. If you’re awake I need you to help me. Well, this certainly wasn’t what he’d had in mind! The incessant tickling on his left foot was driving him insane. “Stop! Lehehehehehehehet me go!”

Deku giggled, and Bakugou felt the weight on his legs shift so the nerd was now sitting on his knees, grabbing and squeezing at his thighs. The blonde jerked and sputtered, laughter pouring from him in tight, jerky bursts.

“No – stop– nahahaha – not there – Deheheheku I’ll kihihihihill you—!”

“Can you guess what I want from you, Kacchan?” Deku’s voice was in his confident, teasing register that Bakugou hated so dang much. He reached even higher to pinch along the insides of the blonde’s thighs. “I want you to give up. Admit defeat. Tell me I win.”

“StahaHAHAHAP!! Deku – dohohohohon’t do that – this isn’t FAHAHAHAIR!!” Bakugou’s laughs were coming out even louder now, more desperate, as the ticklish feelings intensified. He hated his bed. He hated it with everything he had.

Deku chuckled, and it sent a shiver up Bakugou’s spine for how sinister it sounded. “All’s fair in love and tickle war.”

“I hahahahahate you!” Bakugou cried, his voice turning screechy as Deku’s fingers trailed even further up, squeezing his hips now. “You neheheheherd, y-you’ll regrehehehehet this – no, no, no! No, Deku! Don’t – no!”

“What’s the matter, Kacchan?” Deku teased, reaching under the bed to gently tap his fingers over that spot between his ribs and underarms. The spot that would make him give in one way or another. The spot that made him lose all sense of everything except how much it freaking tickled.

“Y-You know what!” Bakugou snapped, feeling himself tremble in anticipation no matter how much he tried not to. “Don’t…don’t tickle me there! This isn’t fair and you know it, you dang nerd!”

“Why, Kacchan, you sound nervous.”

Bakugou cursed. “Shut up and get me out of here already!”

“Give up, Kacchan.” Deku pressed his fingers in slightly, a warning. “Give up, or I’ll never stop tickling you.”

Bakugou gritted his teeth. Before he could even think about replying, Deku had scooted up even further to sit on his thighs, reaching under the bed to find purchase on that spot and tickle as hard as possible.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Bakugou screamed, unable to do anything more than kick his feet out behind him. He couldn’t bring his arms down, couldn’t roll over, couldn’t do anything other than lay there and feel it and take it. “DEHEHEHEHEHEHEKU I’LL MAHAHAHAHAHAHAKE YOU PAHAHAHAHY FOR THIS!!”

“Not until you give up first.” Deku giggled again. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~ Not so tough when you can’t get away at all, are you, Kacchan? I keep forgetting how ticklish you are~”

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEASE!!” Bakugou pounded his fists on the ground. He didn’t care if whoever was below him woke up. He couldn’t take this intense tickling without being able to move at all! “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“Nope.”

That one word sent a strong wave of ticklish panic through Bakugou, making him shriek and squeal and kick and do everything in his power to get away, only to fail miserably and be reminded of how helpless he was right now, and at the mercy of his oldest rival. Still, there was some tiny, insane part of him that was proud of Deku for having the guts to do this to him at all.

The majority of him still vowed to murder the nerd when this was all over.

“I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T – I CAN’T TAHAHAHAHAHAHAKE IT!! DEHEHEHEHEKU!!”

“What a shame. You’d better give up, then.”

Bakugou was practically gasping for breath at this point. There was limited air supply down here as it was, and with all of his laughing and writhing, he was pretty sure he was using all of it up. He didn’t want to give in to the tickling, but with nowhere to go and no way to fight back, he really had no choice in the matter.

“PLEASE!! YOU KNOHOHOHOHOHOW I CAHAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAHAHAKE IT THEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!! I’M DYIHIHIHIHIHING!! DEKU!!”

“Give up, Kacchan!”

“FIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHINE!!” Bakugou sucked in the biggest breath he could manage, letting it all out in a desperate, hysterical, screaming cry. “I GIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIVE UP!! I GIVE UP, I GIVE UHUHUHUHUHUP!!” Tears streamed down his face from how hard he was laughing now. “DEKU, HAVE MEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERCY!!”

And finally – finally – the tickling stopped.

Bakugou gasped for air, almost unaware that Deku had gotten to work pulling him out the rest of the way until he was blinded by his own bedroom’s lighting. He lay limp on the carpet, chest heaving as he drank in all the oxygen he could manage, phone long forgotten. God, he was sweating. Actually sweating! Too bad he couldn’t use his quirk in the dorms. He’d blast this nerd into next year.

A pair of green eyes entered his vision, looking concerned. “Kacchan?”

“I…I told you…I was dying,” Bakugou muttered, still making no move to get up. “You nearly…killed me, you idiot…”

Deku watched him for a moment, assessing, then beamed at him and even had the nerve to ruffle his hair. “I expect you to get me back twice as bad for this, okay?”

“Are you kidding me? I’ll tickle you so bad you’ll even forget about All Might.”

With a giggle, Deku nodded and got to his feet. “I’ll be waiting. Good night, Kacchan.” And he was gone.

Bakugou lay on the floor of his room for another few minutes, just trying to muster enough strength to roll over onto his back. Dang, the nerd hadn’t held back this time! He’d be impressed if he wasn’t on the receiving end of it all.

Then he remembered what Deku had said in the beginning. All’s fair in love and tickle war.

Tickle war, eh? Bakugou thought, smirking tiredly. If war is what he wants, then war is what he’ll get!

[damselofblueroses]

The Name of the Rose, Chapter 4

Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.

Chapter Summary: Kyungsoo taught the Reader how she should be touched. After the lesson the Reader answers his question and tell him her observation about the lesson. (Note: This chapter is fucking long, so grab your drink before reading babes!)

Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.

Chapter Word Count: 11.2k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4: I Am Gonna Love You

A gentle breeze puffed past the slightly open window, as it blowed the curtain, moonlight spilled into the room. There was dull light, coming from the top of the walls, casting a dim yellow tint along the carpet and bed.

A soft smile tugged at Kyungsoo’s lips.

You were glaring at him, to be honest, Kyungsoo felt a little bit exposed to you, but he was more than okey with being naked for you, all with his body, and soul. He was ready to give everything he had. Sometimes he believed that he must be crazy for loving you at this extent, definitely he had gone mad, there was no logical explanation of willingly being at your fingertips.

“We do not,” his voice was reminding you all the warm autumn nights you spent together, it was rich, baritone and velvety, your entire body stiffened as his index finger wandered around your face, from forehead to chin. “We do not do anything you do not want.”

You looked at him, forgetting how to blink. That bloody dim light painting him with a shiny halo, increasing his ethereal beauty and to your dismay, his already so-fucking-strong impacts on you. Sometimes you could not help but wonder if he has been knowing how he affected you or not. His eyes, fucking pair of big-doe eyes, chocolate brown and always full of emotions, skimmed over your face, you swallowed your heartbeat in the throat.

“I know.” you miraculously found your voice out of nowhere. With slow moving fingers, without noticing what the heck you were doing, you touched his upper lip.

Kyungsoo held his groan back, and his hands clenched into fists. He hated himself for his quick response to your touch, he wanted to keep himself as one fucking piece.

You took your hand back off him, hiding it behind your back, sagging against the pillows. A deep sigh emitted from both of you.

You were looking to each other, the silence invaded the room but this time it was different from before. This silence was like a messenger, it was not eerily or strange. Both of you were testing the waters, you were waiting for the one who was going to make the next move, but both of you were aware of the fact that this silence was nothing but an emissary.

An emissary that was telling your mutual desires for each other. Your dire needs and hopes.

He raised his hand, looking at you as asking for your permission, you forgot how to swallow but immediately shook your head from up to down. His lips formed as his fucking signature smile, heart shaped one, the type of smile which Kyungsoo gave only when he was really happy. Your breath stuck in your lungs, an unmistakable blush spread across your face, made its own way to your neck. He crawled towards you, his hands caressed your ankles and spread your legs enough to make a space for himself, sitting between your calves.

The little air which was left in your lungs left your body.

His closeness and warmness started to rile you up, if riling you more than now was possible. You could easily smell his perfume, fuelling your excitement that already brewing the potions in your lower stomach.

Kyungsoo had dangerously lingered in your mind since the first day you saw him.

And now he was sitting between your legs, and only God knew what the heck he was going to do. You knew you could not say no, fuck’s sake you just could not. If he wanted to teach you as you requested, you would say yes. If he wanted to just stay like this, you would say yes. If he wanted to take you over there, you would say yes.

You knew how dangerous your love for Kyungsoo was. You were always imagining him, Kyungsoo has been living with you literally and figuratively.

You did not say this to him, you would never ever, but it was always his name coming from your mouth when you think about the bases. There was no other option, Kyungsoo or no one.

You suddenly remembered the question that Baekhyun asked to you. Unfortunately, as Baekhyun would like to define, your Virgin Mary status, was a topic that the boys really liked to mock with you. However, once Baekhyun seriously asked you, if you could wish for someone ravaging you, who was going to be? As expected Baekhyun gave you a detailed scenario which made you terrified, ended up with a huge fight between you and Baekhyun, however when you were alone, you could not stop thinking about that scenario.

It was Kyungsoo.

The name was his name even when you thought that type of imagines.

It had been Kyungsoo, and it seemed, it was going to be always his name.

When that scumbag, the touchy one pressed his fingers onto your thighs, you did not like it because they were not Kyungsoo’s. You preferred to be violently murdered than admitting this, however when you were be back into the security of your room after that unlucky experience, the only question lingering in your mind was how you could response if those would be Kyungsoo’s fingers? What would you do if those bonny, pale, and sinewy fingers touching your thighs?

You were totally ignorant to the intimate relationships, if Kyungsoo would not be in the picture, you could be sure of you were not engaged to the desires and bodily needs. However, the reason of your hunger was sitting between your legs, and to your dismay you were more than aware of the calls of your body. God, did he have to sit this fucking close to you, enough to make his breathes hovering your hair? You could not tell if you wanted to throw yourself forward to his arms or pushing him to the mattress. God only knows what was going to be next, but your eyes coasted down his biceps, as taut as ever, and the fucking veins that were visible on his wrists appearing more than prominent as he gently held your ankles.

“Are you okey with this?” Kyungsoo pointed his position, smiling a little bit nervously. You inhaled sharply, then a sharp laugh fell from your lips.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you covered your mouth with your hand. Kyungsoo lifted his head, directed his gaze upon you, you wanted to beg him not looking at you with all the power of his eyes.

“No, I need to hear your words.” he slightly pinched your left calf. You tried to free your ankle from his iron grip in order to show your current discontent of his pinch, but your effort made him laugh, despite of his movements shuttered.

“I am okey.” you sheepishly whispered.

“Do you still want me to teach you?” he bit his tongue. While he was itching to teach you, -and to be honest, his inner peace was already destroyed after you asked him if he had feelings for you or not, he was dying to taste you, JesusfuckingChrist, he never had a piece of inner piece since you came into the picture of his life, he also refused to push you for any case. Whether you chose was going to be fine by him, he was not going to dig his own grave by insisting or shoving you.

“Depends.” you murmured. “Only if you do not make fun of me.”

“Why should I make fun of you?” Kyungsoo felt his heart churned. “You asked weird questions, first about leaving you, now about mocking you. Do I make you uncomfortable by any chance?”

“Yes.” you did not think about your answer, then registered to your word. Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, for the first time of his life, he could not find anything to say. He never think that he could be the reason of your discomfort. You quickly realized the meaning of your response, while you were swearing at your fucking useless brain, you took a deep breath. “I mean, yes, you do but not because of anything you do.”

“With all my respect to you,” Kyungsoo took his hands off your ankles. “May I ask what the heck you are talking about?”

“I can be uncomfortable when you are around,” your fingers brushed against each other. Kyungsoo realized that little habit of you, you always do this when you wanted to say something which really mattered to you. “Because sometimes your presence gives me heart attacks, Kyungsoo. I do not know to describe the feelings you cause in me; I am not an expert on the field, but what should I have to do when the only one I want to keep for myself is you?”

Your words caught Kyungsoo off his guard, turning him into a mummy who could not perform anything which were preserved for the human beings.

He never ever give himself the permission of hoping such as hearing these words from you.

“I thought I could control myself.” you let every miserable thought of you came out. “But I failed, I cannot press the feelings I have for you anymore. I know it sounds very poor, and I know how much popular you are.”

Kyungsoo heard himself as snorting, but still he was numb. You were peering him, as you have been expecting a response, a voice, a thing. However, Kyungsoo was not able to give anything, he was frozen, tearing off from his wit. He knew that you were going to get wrong deductions of his persistent silence, but his fucking voice was playing hide and seek.

Surprisingly, you continued to talk.

You realized that talking was refreshing and soothing the painful circles which had been staying in the darkest cliffs of your mind. Despite of your usual behaviour when it came to express how you feel, you decided to communicate with Kyungsoo.

Ride or die.

“I know we are friends, and I really afraid of losing you, but I am losing my fucking sanity, Kyungsoo. Day by day, you had been becoming the center of my thoughts. I thought I was better than this, I made all my effort to seal my fondness of you, but it drives me into crazy. Maybe I am just pathetic.”

Was it really your self-perspective? Kyungsoo wished you could perceive yourself from his eyes.

“You? Pathetic?” his voice was cracked, sounded like an old man. “Impossible.”

There was no hesitation in his face.

“You are quite opposite.” he finally managed to vocalize his thoughts. “If you were pathetic, I would immediately warn you.”

Your head was throbbing because of the hidden passion of his voice tone. His gaze became something irresistible, dawdling on your features, focusing on your pinkish lips.

“Thank you, Soo.” you vaguely smiled. This was Kyungsoo being coddling, as Kyungsoo could possibly be. He fucked the things up, then popped in front of your door, pressed you to the wall, had a shitty conversation, nested between your legs, and in the end, told you his opinion of being pathetic or not by pointing he would scold you as he generally did.

“If you would be pathetic,” he continued. “I cannot be so adamant to be close to you. I would be lying if I say I do not want to be with you. Always.”

It was your turn to lose the trail of thoughts.

“You are not the only one who has feelings.” an eerily laugh followed his words. “And you are not the only one who is afraid of losing what we have. Maybe we are both pathetic, who knows? But I am sincere when I tell you that I have interests in you.”

Silence hovered in the air, you watched his face while he was standing in front of you, refusing to take his eyes off you. You knew he was honest as always, he always said what he thinks, what he believes even it could be hurtful.

If your feelings would be platonic, despite of the sake of your friendship, Kyungsoo would tell you at once.

You leaned forward, you reached to his face, his brows were knitted.

“We are idiots, you know that, right?” you smiled to him.

“We always have been.” he assured you with a serious face. You wholeheartedly laughed. “By the way, is it sake or you I have been talking with?”

“I am sober as fuck.” you chuckled. “You?”

“I did not drink as much as you did, you filthy drunkard.” Kyungsoo quickly shifted between moods. “I am abstinent, abstemious and sober as a judge. However, I do not want to hear those poor self-thoughts from you. Never again.”

His fingers lightly stroked your lips. Your breath stuck in your throat, you lost counting how many times you lost yourself in his touch tonight. Anyone else could consider his tone intimating, but you knew Kyungsoo well enough that he really meant you were precious and beautiful in his eyes.

“Okey.” you nod.

You wanted to ask him what you were going to do with seems-very-correspondingfeelings, but you did not want to push him. Kyungsoo wanted to ask you what you what was your plan about him or if you wanted to have a relationship with him, but he kept himself under the yoke and refused to impel you. His hand was still cupping your face.

Suddenly, he started to feel extremely warm.

“Soo,” you placed your hands onto his shoulder. You actually cooed. “I was also serious when I said I want you to teach me.”

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Your logic was fogged by the heavy desires, and your logic persuaded you, the one who started all of these was Kyungsoo. He was the one who said that scumbag did it wrong, and since he never ridicule someone for doing something wrong if he did not have the knowledge of the right ways.

And also, you wanted him, you wanted to feel him and have a proper taste.

So, you may be looking for the excuses in the book, but the frustrating heat was unbearable. You did not know what was going to be tomorrow, when you wake up, however you were sure of if you would not feel his lips again, you could not survive enough to see the sun again.

You did not care if you were going to torture yourself by having Kyungsoo for this night even when you were going to want him for the rest of your life, when there was always a possibility of losing him.

“Yeah, you said.” Kyungsoo inhaled. “Okey, I really need your words, and you have to promise me if you want to stop the session, you have to be vocal about it.”

“I…” you stopped before gearing up for the way. “I want to learn. I promise.”

“You are making everything hard for me.” Kyungsoo exhaled, staring at your small hands on his shoulders. “Do you know how you sound like? You are inviting me to please you, sweet Jesus, I want to make you feel good. Do you have any idea how hard to keep myself as a fucking one piece?”

“Do not hold yourself back.” you could not believe your own words. Your voice sounded like you were begging him, as you have not done till now. “Please, Soo.”

Kyungsoo thought that he poisoned you with his warped desires, he was not sure if he deserved you or your trust. You willingly put yourself in his palms, and he deeply believed that you deserved to have someone make you feel good, make you happy and feel secured. You deserved to feel fucking good, and Kyungsoo knew that he wished nothing but happiness for you.

But he could not stand the idea of someone else were to make you happy, make you feel good, even if that person could do it right. He was jealous to the bits even thinking about another man, being with you. He wanted to bring you such a high, maybe that was the worst thing to vocalize, however Kyungsoo wished nothing but be that man. He knew you like knowing the back of his hands, there would be one and only for you, you were an old-fashioned girl when it came to love someone.

He knew you would do everything in your power for the one who you loved, and you would keep him as the only man in your life.

And Kyungsoo felt like the most selfish person in the world for wanting it to be him to be loved by you.

He was aware of the fact that teaching you was just an excuse you came up with. You could tell him that you wanted to have a taste of Kyungsoo, you were too shy to say those words, however only you could be brave enough to find an excuse and play that card.

My little fox, Kyungsoo thought. How could I refuse you?

But there was fear.

After hearing you were also interested in him, you had feelings for him enough to make you to invite Kyungsoo to touch you, Kyungsoo was afraid of nothing, but you would change your mind. He could not endure if you were going to tell him that he made you unhappy. What if he was going to seed wrong thoughts and perspectives in your brain such as you feel like unwanted? He could not survive if he was going to hear that he made it wrong like that scumbag.

But you were leaning to his chest, he could feel your heartbeats and warmness. Your breath hovered his neck, and he could feel your velvety lips just over on his skin.

He was dying to feel more of you.

Shit. He really could not help himself.

He held your chin and lifted your head.

“I will do what you wanted.” he made his final decision. “But I have to warn you before starting to teach you. Every nerve of my body steer me towards you. I really want you. Consciously, logically, physically, emotionally. You name it, you get it.”

Your chin dropped at his bluntness. Well, you did not expect to hear those words, and Godfuckingdamnit, if Kyungsoo was going to be vocal and could not stop his goddamn mouth, you were going to burn right now.

“O-okey.” you shuttered. Your entire body tensed beneath his feathery touch, and you felt his touch made your heart rapping at a pace which your lungs could not support.

He closed his eyes.

“Damn.” you heard his low grunt, that made the fire in your stomach worse. “Remember, you promised t-

You could not help.

But kissed his closed eyelids.

Kyungsoo swore on there was no capacity left in his lungs for air as he felt your plumed and delicate kisses on his eyes, from right to left, then you made your way to his eyebrows.

“You have very beautiful eyebrows, Soo.” he heard your whisper, his heart twisted again and again. You had a grip on him, you could revel him in the blink of eye, he had a first handed experience of your power on him. He was riling up even with the idea of being at your call, being at your service, fulfilling your needs and desires as the best way he could. “And your eyes are spectacularly stunning.”

He wished you could stop praising him, otherwise he would just come in his fucking pants after hearing two nice words from you, but to his dismay, you seemed like you could not stop your goddamn mouth tonight.

Even worse, you could not prevent yourself from memorizing the details of his face with your lips and fingers. You laid your lips on his forehead as you got your hands through his stubborn hair to his neck, and you could not be sure if Kyungsoo’s body was actually trembling or if you were persuading yourself on managing to seduce him because you were deadly anxious about the issue.

The things you had no idea on that you already ignited the wheels of the machine, set Kyungsoo on fire and there was no turning back.

“Have I ever told you how much I love when you look at me?” you asked. “Even though when you look at me, I feel like I am going to explode, I love to be the view of your eyes. You are breath-taking, Kyungsoo.”

“Can you stop talking?” Kyungsoo could not hold his grunt anymore. “You cannot say these without noticing how effective they are!”

“Why?” your lips formed around a very little smile. “Don’t tell me you are into praising.”

“You little…” Kyungsoo was shocked due to your sudden transformation from a shy schoolgirl into a sharp brat, but you did not hesitate to make it worse by quickly pressing your lips onto his, then backed off.

“I see you really are.” you raised your eyebrow. There was a devilishly look on your face, you remembered something Baekhyun told you, and you did not hold it back. “So, what would happen if I told you how good you are for me?”

Kyungsoo immediately blushed.

“You are really blushing, Soo!” you exclaimed. “Look at your face!”

“Do not forget,” he deeply growled. “You started this game.”

You were not disappointed that seeing his transformation in the blink of an eye. He grabbed your wrists with one hand and securely pressed them on the pillows while pushing you into the mattress. His face was fucking close to you, your lips parted for him.

“You learned that I am into praising,” he beamed. His eyes started to shine like a boy unwrapping his Christmas gifts under the tree. “From now on, I am definitely going to discover what you are into.”

You wanted to answer by saying that you are irrevocably into him, but Kyungsoo’s lips covered your mouth, but he did not stay on your lips more than enough to make you shut up, he swiftly climbed over your body, slipping his waist between your thighs, his hips were fucking close to set your world on fire.

Kyungsoo did not hesitate to give you a couple of short kisses before fully taking your lips in his, just like he was testing the waters and tasting you before starting to completely ravage you. You had no idea how far he was planning to go; however, you were bloody sure on that if he wanted to encourage you to go to whole way, you were going to say yes. His lips were warm and soft as before, feeling you like you were a fucking addict of him.

You felt things you have never ever felt before to the point where he had you coming to stay in the palms of his hands. It could be your lack of experience, but in the deep of your heart, you knew the fact that it was not about being inexperienced or not, you knew that you were trembling, shuttering, shivering, and shaking because what he has been doing to you and for you was nothing but right.

Feels right.

He paused for a moment, he was out of breath and his face all blushed now. He leaned your forehead, cupping your face while he braced himself up on his right forearm. He kissed your forehead, kissing you fervently, he was drowned in all things about you. Your darkened eyes. Your plump lips. Your silky hair. Your words, your kindness, your firmness. You were composed by the everything Kyungsoo could wish for.

Your voice, begging him to touch you. Persuading him to take you.

Fucking hell, he should have kept himself far away from you. He really had to not listen your words when you said you liked him while you always could leave him in the darkness.

But running away from you was also equal to living in a personal hell, especially after learning the fact that you liked him.

Kyungsoo cupped the back of your neck in his palm and traced your eyebrows with his lips, he could feel the heat of your skin, singing the songs for him. All he could think was eating you alive, devouring you, marking you as his.

All his.

He hated being so clingy and cheesy, but he could not help it.

His lips followed their way from your eyebrows to your earlobe, you gasped when his lips brushed your ear, your hands freely moved and grabbed his shirt, digging your finger onto his flesh.

“Remember your promise.” his breath fanned your neck when he whispered. Godfuckingdamnit.“If I make you uncomfortable at any point, tell me.”

“Stop whispering.” you unconsciously moaned, swallowing hard. He made a mental note of your voice, storing the tone in his mind and boyishly grinned. So, you were into whispering. His fingers trailed the back of your neck, moved to your side, and caressed you gently. Your chest rubbing against him as you squirmed under his body as you could feel his hands pressing your sides, locking you in place, it was like your body responding to his heavy touches so well.

You were feeling weird, but it was not about Kyungsoo.

You were meeting with the most foreign part of your body.

There was an ache building between your thighs that you never ever felt before.

“Soo,” you glanced down to his mouth, then backed up to his eyes. His eyes were darkening with hidden desires that he was holding back all these years. “I am generally not like this.”

Kyungsoo wholeheartedly laughed.

“Oh really?” his face was lit up because of your funny explanation. “I know, you little idiot.”

He could feel you falling apart already, the softest whimpers getting caught in your throat and fuck, he could also feel that those stupidly nice noises you were unconsciously making, their effects go straight his dick, then climbing into his stomach and forcing him to dip his mouth against yours. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, your arms jerked around him, and you could not control your hips rutting against him.

Both of you could feel the pressure forming against to your pelvis.

And you heedlessly grind him, when you did that, he was the one who had to break the kiss.

“Shit,” he muttered, barely loud enough.

But you heard him. You heard him, not only hearing but also recording every reaction he gave to you in a folder in your head. You slide your hands up his shoulders and pulled him back into another kiss, even though you were aware of how much you wanted him, you had no idea of how thirsty you were for Kyungsoo’s lips. He was so careful with you, his touch was so delicate, and he was aware of your body and mind, completely tuned into your responses and reactions. He was reading your needs and limits out of your reactions, by every inch of your body where his fingers shifting against your skin, he was learning and composing a new song to be sung together.

You loved it.

Maybe you were sickly eager to be at his fingertips since ages, but you loved how he cared for you. Your blown pupils and glimmering irises were telling him that he was on the right track as he peppered more kisses on your cheeks, nose, and jawbone.

He dipped his head forward, pressing his lips on your neck where he begun to kiss diligently. This was new for you, it was consuming and tantalizing sensation which had you squirming under Kyungsoo, catching your desperate side, and turning you more needy. Your grip on his shoulders tightened, you clung onto the fabric of his t-shirt, and partly his muscles. One of your hands moved immediately to his hair, tugged the back of his head, and pulled him closer, enough to make his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

You could feel his little smile on your skin.

His hair smelled like bloomed roses, paired with something reminded you the salty fragrance of the sea.

Your heart was on the verge of exploding as your blood pressure was skyrocketing.

Kyungsoo bit you very gently, you could hardly feel his teeth, then he drawn a line on your collarbone with his tongue, your head tilted backwards, opened more place for him and you moaned.

“You are so sensitive, huh?” he mocked, and his tease caught you off guard. You shivered more than before in response as his hands wandered around your waist, pressed you against his chest.

So, you were also into teasing. Kyungsoo made another mental note for the future.

For the future.

Kyungsoo had already decided to never ever let you go. Not after hearing your whimpers. Not after tasting your lips. Not after feeling your curves under his stiff body. Not after being the target of your witty remarks.

You bewitched him in body and soul, and he never want to apart from you. If he had to lock you in a room with himself, he would even do it.

He could feel you trembling in his arms, he knew that if he was going to let another one to have you, he would die in that second. He irrevocably fell apart inside, he hovered over you to get a good look at your face, and it was the nail of his coffin.

Your pixie haircut lost its model, splayed out prettily, your cheeks were blushed, you were panting, and your lips were swollen and parted.

“Please.” you gasped, reaching to him again but Kyungsoo removed your hands over his shoulders, placing a tender kiss on your head. It was obvious that your lungs used all the capacity they had as you were out of air.

“Relax.” he murmured very delicately. “Take a deep breath. We are here to go for a long way.”

He turned back to your neck, finding the point of your pulse, circling around the point with his index finger while peppering your collarbone with kisses, touching you less to provide you with the chance of taking a full breath of air. He realized once again the amount of trust you just put in him. He knew that you did not do any of these before, you were totally handing yourself to Kyungsoo, blindly believing in him, the way of feeling proud was making his heart to swell in his chest. He resisted to the need of taking a good look on your curves, he also kept his instincts telling him to run his hands over your body in control. Instead, he made the eye contact and looked at your face when he lifted his head, then he hovered above your shoulder, waited for you till he could feel your breathing was under control.

“I am good.” you sighed.

He took the clue, then his mouth once more connected to your pulse point. He loved to feel your heartbeats beneath his lips and tongue. To be honest he really wanted to suck your sensitive flesh, however he knew that your skin was too pale and delicate, easily be bruised and he did not want to give you that horrible lavender colour as he was informed how much you disliked the bruises. You were extremely clumsy, enough to make him to want building a bubble around you to keep you always safe, however since that was impossible, he had to see and count the bruises and wounds all over your legs and arms.

So, he kept his desires under the yoke.

There were different ways of marking you as his.

He could do that, right? He could make you feel so good, enough to forget every possible name maybe you were keeping in your mind or the invisible rivals whose could always come to your way? He could carve his name in your heart, he could burn you well, so you could not remember anything but Kyungsoo.

What he did still not fully grasp was the fact that Kyungsoo was already the one and only for you.

While he was kissing your neck and collarbone, your fingers made their way from his shoulder to his toned chest and digging into his muscles. Slowly, very slowly, Kyungsoo began to slide the straps of your dress, driving you into crazy and your chest came on display. You always thought it would be very embarrassing, you did not like to be seen by anyone, but when Kyungsoo pressed his bonny fingers onto your chest, you fucking lost it.

It was not embarrassing. It was nothing like you could think of. You just wanted to look beautiful for him, when he lay his palm against your breast, you did not think anything but how much you wanted to please him. His eyes glazed over to your face, by keeping the eye contact, he slightly cupped your breast and gently squeezed.

Your eyes blown up, and you wiggled like a worm again beneath his body, that simple move alarmed your nerves and gave you goosebumps. Your heart thumped around in your throat, rammed against to your ribs just like a bird who wanted to achieve freedom.

“Is this okey?” Kyungsoo asked, his eyes were covered with a glistening thick layer of lust, his voice sounded darker and lower, doubling the tingles he was causing on you, you wanted nothing but crawling into his body. At the same time, he wanted to keep himself, he was afraid of pushing you more than you could ask for, however your fucking choice of undergarment made it almost impossible for him. He did not think Sehun also chose this for you, you were not the type of woman who could go and ask for the fashionable undergarments.

This stupidly attractive bralette must be your own taste, a dark navy bralette was covering your breasts softly, looking wonderful on your pale skin and the decorative details which composed by lace was wrapping your chest.

He closed his eyes for a second, he was not sure if he could survive or not.

You were drowning into the foggy thoughts, but even in this situation, you could not miss a single thing about Kyungsoo. You sharply observed something was wrong with him, and you were scared out of your mind.

You immediately thought that something was wrong with you.

Your insecurities did not wait for even a single moment, and quickly started to howl in your head. Your body stiffed like a rock, your fingers spasmed on his chest.

“What happened?” Kyungsoo reacted to your transformation as your body was frozen in his arms just like he was holding a sculpture which was carved out of ice. You shook your head, but due to the tension you got under your skin, the tears formed around the edges of your eyes.

You hated yourself.

“Can you tell me what is wrong?” Kyungsoo asked, he thought he fucked the things up so badly, he pushed you too much, he made you afraid of him.

“You didn’t like it.”

“Ha?”

That was the best shot he could give. You were embarrassed to death, but you forced yourself to make an explanation, you pointed the bralette you were wearing, Jesus, the only reason you purchased this type of underwear, was… Well. It was very obvious why you owned a couple of good undergarments.

And why you chose to bring them with you.

Kyungsoo followed the direction you were pointing to, his eyes widened, and he swallowed hardly. Were you an idiot? How could he manage to not like the view since he was waiting to see it since ages? Godfuckingdamnit, the view in front of his eyes was worth for all the years.

Then he really registered to the meaning.

You were anxious more than he thought, and you wanted to be praised by him. When he closed to his eyes, you got the wrong impression.

He concluded that you were an idiot, but he loved you more than anything for also being so clueless. Your reactions were priceless.

You felt Kyungsoo’s lips on your finger, then in your palm. Your eyes immediately opened.

“I love it.” he directly looked at your eyes with all the power in his gaze. You literally bit your lips in order to keep that fucking need of whining under your control. “Now, watch me.”

“For what?”

“I am going to show you,” his mouth watered after he took a really good look at your chest. “How much I love it.”

Your body tingled after his words; he did not miss a second and dipped his head onto the vault between your breasts. You could not help but wonder where in the hell Kyungsoo learned how to do these things and how he could be so fucking good at.

He hooked his thumb around the strap of your bralette and slide it down your shoulder, lifting his head and pressing his lips onto the new patch of skin. You were going ballistic when you felt his tongue, your hands searched anything to hold on for your dear life. Kyungsoo’s breath caught in his chest, he has been leaving soft kisses along the line between your neck and shoulder, his hand curved around your waist as he yanked your dress down and tugged it all the way down to your spine, granted himself the opportunity to easily take you out of that fucking dress. You tugged on his shirt, half of your face was submerged in the yellow dim lights, however the fact of your brain already went to mush was palpable.

Kyungsoo nod once, looked at you, and rubbed his hips against your core.

“Damn you, Soo.”

He chuckled when he heard your sweetest moan. He felt your quivery fingers found their ways around his hair, sneaked to his neck, while you were pressing his head onto your chest and giving him more opportunities to taste you. Shit, you were smelling so good, your skin was too soft, and your heart was drumming. Your bodies are pressed together, you were melting in each other, your thighs were wrapped around his hips, you were touching him, he was touching you.

There was no surprise he could not fucking breath.

As his eyes poured into yours, your stomach churned. You were throbbing for him; his hair was splayed between his head and the vault between your breasts, and you felt something which was coming into life in the very deep of you.

Something wet.

You did not experience it till now, but you listened a lot of stories from Baekhyun and Chanyeol. They assured you on one day you were going to need this information, so you knew what the fuck was happening to you.

You were soaking, clenching around nothing, and to your dismay, all he has done was kissing you. He was unravelling you slowly, and you were taking everything he was giving to you like you had been starving since years. When it came to experience, you were totally ignorant, but in the secrecy of your head, you knew that if he would want to slide himself inside of you right now, you were going to take him like a very good girl.

You closed your eyes, then you sensed a stingy feeling on your breast.

He bite the hardening bud of your breast as your eyes blown up.

“Oho.” his voice was fucking dominant and demanding, his eyebrows were knitted but he was glaring at you with the softest look you have ever seen in his eyes. “I said, watch me.”

Embarrassment?

It was already left the room out of the window as you lifted your head and concentrated on him.

Kyungsoo brought his face closer to your collarbone, remained exposed and placed a gentle kiss on the sternum, and did not neglect your clavicles. You wondered why he did not take the bralette off, or if he was going to do, however you were so messed up to think clearly. You were trying to solve the problem, if the increasing pace of your heart was about the arousal or stimulation, however when he nudged your nipple with his fingers, all questions immediately faded away. His fingers circled around it as he lifted his head to watch your reactions.

You thought that your eyes must be wholly black because your pupils expanded to their limits.

Then he made everything worse for you by bringing his mouth down on your breast over the fabric of your bralette, kissing along the soft tissue. Your gasps were so sharp, you cried out.

Kyungsoo fought against himself in order to behave and have his fucking manners while every nerve of his body beg him to take you right there, right now, as that bloody sweet sounds of you reached out to his ears. He never ever hear your moans, to be honest he was certain on that no one heard the noises you made, but he imagined it before.

God, it was too wrong maybe, but he imagined all of these before.

He made all of these and beyond with you in his mind, again and again.

To be honest, Kyungsoo’s mind always dangerously wandered around you. He reserved the vastest place of his mind just for you, for every version of you, from the best friend to the partner in crime, from a witty brat to a trustworthy companion, from a bashful girl to the most alluring woman. Generally, he just think about the days you were spending together, noticing something that you pointed out in the library, laughing for the lame jokes you made all the time, finding your notebook full of your shitty handwriting in his bag, or coming across to a note you took on his currently readings. Damn, Kyungsoo loved to read even your fucking gibberish. Or he just harkened back to the moments that you gave him handmade bento boxes for the lunch, even though he was cooking better than you or sitting next to him without saying anything. Laying down on the grass together or walking around the campus during nights. He just recalled the moments of your presence like all memories you had were pearls for him such as the times you were waiting him to be back in front of the dorms with an umbrella because of the sudden raining.

But sometimes, he was imagining you in your lewdest forms, while he always make you to feel fucking wonderful in those dreams. You just entangled in his thoughts with the moment you made a speech with sinfully deceptive red dress, or running to his open arms after summer break, whispering to his ear when you were watching a movie in theatre or he remembered that you came out of bathroom without noticing he was also in your flat, smelling so fucking good and the water splashes were dripping off your body, your widening eyes when you noticed his presence and immediately started to curse him, making him burst into laughs with your vocabulary, or the moments your hands clashed each other, or you were stretching your body like a cat… He immediately caught them, stored them his mind and then, when he was all by himself, hooking them in the sea of memories.

God, he painted many pictures of you in his thoughts.

He had been thinking about you a lot, how he could touch you if you would allow him.

That’s why he was so fucking damn good at it.

He knew everything about you, he had been watching you for his dear life. He was aware of how you should be touched. How you should be cared. How you should be loved. He knew that you were made of steel, but you were also made of cotton candies. When you allow someone to be with you, that bastard had to create a perfect balance between carefulness and coarseness.

You should be bend, not broken and Kyungsoo was fucking devoted to do it rightly.

He wanted nothing but hearing his own name like a chant from your mouth, he wondered how you would sound like when his name was the only thing you could say.

He took a look at you, and he thought you were ready for the next step. Hell, he was born ready for doing these to you. As an answer to the silent question in your mind as he could feel it, he slide the straps of your bralette and swiftly stripped you out of it. When your bare chest come to display, he lost his self-control, as he did not spend any single second to clamp down on your nipple, digging his hands into your sides.

He was sure of you started to leak between your thighs as the increasing heat was alarming him, as you could feel he was literally hard against you.

“Fuck…” you murmured, closing your eyes, then immediately opened them widely as you remembered his command about watching him. You knew that he had a strong will and self-control, you did not know how much you affected him, but you could not take any risk which could make him to stop. You had to watch him.

Kyungsoo kissed your nipples softly, his hands glided upwards and caressed your flesh, his touch was an equilibrium of gentleness and roughness, had your body squirming more than before, then he took your bud between his fingers, tweaked it and devilishly smiled to you. One of his hands cupped your breast, while the other moved downward, sneaking inside of your dress and his fingers softly brushed to your inner thighs.

Another moan ripped from your throat, to be honest you started to feel like an earthenware and Kyungsoo was your potter.

“Is this okey?” as he clearly intended to peel your dress off you, knowing what you were going to say, but still asking for permission. You were melted in his hands you were amazed by the fact that he was really taking good care of you. Despite of your lack of experience, you could understand the situation was really unbearable not only for you, but also for him as you could see his eyes, darkening and his jaw, clenching more and more by every second.

“More than okey.” you mumbled inside of your mouth, your answer caused a luminescent glow on his facial expression, he rolled the fabric above your head, Jesus, he badly wanted to rip you out of this fucking dress.

“I have to say,” he chased the unveiled skin with his lips. “You have no idea how much I wanted to punch Sehun on the face.”

“W-why?” you tried to hold on your reasoning.

“This dress,” he grunted, threw your dress to the floor, and slithered himself throughout your body. “Is nothing but a sin.”

He gently bite your tummy, you wriggled inadequately, Kyungsoo found a new way to torture you, the whimpers fumbled past your lips reminded him how easy to tickle you.

He had never ever said he was a saint.

He held you between his arms, in his iron grip, then skimmed your belly with his nose, you wagged like a puppy tail as you tried to free yourself, your effort made him burst into laughs. You saved one of hands while he was laughing, punched his shoulders, he pinched your side as his response to your poor attack.

“Do not worry.” his smile was nothing but diabolical, and a sick part of you dangerously captivated by seeing that. “I am not going to leave you hanging.”

Godfuckingdamnit, you were not sure what he actually meant, but you were dying to learn.

Was it really terrible of you to think all of these made him yours? Could you really endure it if he would have these moments with someone else? Could you bare it if someone else got to see his eyes, glittering with ardour, love, and care?

You could not.

Your fingers desperately tugged onto his brown hair, you wanted to believe that if you held him strongly, no one could take him from you. The only thing you had to do was clutching him with all your power.

Kyungsoo looked at your eyes, your gaze was dissolving him as you were carefully watching even the tiniest move he made, he could see his own reflection in your pupils.

Wasn’t it enough to mark you as his girl?

You were standing in front of him, with only your panties, dark navy panties, what the heck you were wearing Goddamnit?!

His heart spasmed.

“You are going to be death of me.” he spilled the beans as he looked at the parts of your body where no one see before him. Well, you were embarrassed, it was tangible from the crimson red tone, which was spreading all over your face and chest, however at the same time, you enjoyed seeing his broadened eyes and he became slack-jawed as he wandered his fingers over the panties.

Well, he was not only one who became slack- jawed!

And you begun to notice that you were too compliant. Maybe you could not play this game with the rules, but you wanted to see him as he was perceiving you. Before Kyungsoo could make his next move, you held the hem of his shirt.

“Is this okey?” you echoed his persistent question, raising one eyebrow. His jawbone was tightening, but he did not say anything, the sudden silence was enough to let you hear his gulp and to see his Adam’s apple bobbled. He lifted his arms to help your sloppy hands.

“Take it off if you want.” he said between his teeth. You happily engaged in the task, in a second, his t-shirt joined to your dress on the floor. This was your first time to see his bare chest, Kyungsoo felt a little bit shaky to be honest when you literally examined his upper body with your eyes.

Actually, you were fucking him with your eyes.

“Kyungsoo.”

“Yeah?”

“You are really so pretty.”

“Oho!” his ears turned to red, but he felt like he was over the moon after your very simple words. You were definitely amazed by his beauty as you licked your lips unconsciously. “Shut up, you filthy woman.”

“You were licking my breast, Jesus Christ,” you hissed. “And I am the one who is filthy?!”

“Your comparison is shitty.” he gave you a feverish kiss. “I am worse than you.”

“Ah, that makes everything clear.” you nod, as he followed the direction in his mind with his lips that are fucking velvety, soft, and warm. He grabbed your leg, bending it at the knee and placing your ankle on his shoulder.

What the fuck he was aiming to do?

You remembered what Baekhyun told you during a night that he was drunk and out of his mind, you were immediately panicked but Kyungsoo sensed it. Well, he wanted nothing but pressing his mouth on your cunt, however he knew that it was too early for taking that step.

He did not want you to be freaking out.

“Calm down.” he smiled at you. “I told you we are not going to do anything you do not want.”

He kissed your Achilles and peppered kisses along your calf, he had you go fucking ballistic. You were not sure if you were panicking anymore or not, the heat between your thighs became a literal suffer, and your heart was ready to burst, you could feel there were knots tightening with every second in your stomach.

This bastard was going to make you cry, if he was not going to give you any type of relief.

“Kyungsoo,” your sound was desperate and vulnerable. Finally, he got his name as a fucking moan from you, he learned how it would be, the way of your lips chanting his name over and over again. He could see your panties ruined, you made a mess over there, and to be honest, Kyungsoo never felt so proud in his life like he has been feeling tonight.

You were needy, and all his.

He leaned forward and kissed along your inner thighs, your grip on his hair tightened, he almost laugh with sheer joy.

“It is really cute.” he could not help but teased you. “I mean how wet you are already, even though I just get started.”

“Damn you.”

“If I were you,” he dragged his tongue through the crease, where your thigh met your pelvis. “I would not curse me.”

You bit your tongue to suppress your cry, your fingers weakened, and your legs were twitching.

“I…” you tried to come up with something classy, but Kyungsoo kissed you.

Over there.

“Please!” you cried with the power of your lungs allowed you.

He wanted to give. He wanted to give everything you could ask for. He wanted to follow your instructions, your reactions, and goddamn, it was really so hard for him, he was fighting himself from the beginning, fighting with the utter and absolute need of having you. Your breathing, that sinful noise of you, the violent shudder of your body, all of them was burned into his head, the image of you carved into his eyelids and he was fucking sure you would hunt him for the rest of his life.

He dragged his index finger along your folds, quickly gliding over the wetness and tapped on your clit with the tip of his finger. A bare touch, nothing more nothing less but he had you, you grabbed his wrist, looking at him with big-doe eyes with tears on the edges. Kyungsoo pulled his hand away from your cunt but storing the reaction you gave to his feathery touch.

It was easy to see you wanted him to continue but you were also terrified by the speed.

He tempted to completely pull away, he could not help but feared if he pushed you so hard, enough to make you hate his touch, or him. Kyungsoo’s head was spinning as you were still holding his wrist and panting like his touch burned you.

Actually, it did. Behind every kiss, every touch, everything he did to you, there were his thoughts he never vocalize, not only his lust for you but his love and care for you. That’s why his touches were permanent, they were going to stay on your skin for the rest of your life.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered.

Trust him?

You could laugh, if you were not extremely turned on by him, but there was no capacity in your power storage to do it. Kyungsoo should already know the fact that he was the one and only person you trust unconditionally and irrevocably.

You took his hand and brought it back to yourself, where his fingers brushed over your nipple. Your hands were shaking to death, but Kyungsoo understood what you wanted to show him. You were not going to know how much your answer reassured him.

“Good.”

Damn you and your fucking spells on him, damn you for being the prettiest in his eyes.

He could feel himself soaking through his pants while your leg was still hooked over his shoulder, his hands wandered up to your sides, brushing over your ribs and stomach. He dipped his head again on your tummy and he sprinkled feathery kisses, switching from one side to other side until your brain melted out of your ears, and the only thing you could understand was his lips, memorizing every curve, every line and mark on your skin. His breathes tickled you, you were desperate enough, your instincts were telling you that you had to relieve yourself, you had to find a way, your fingers wandered over to your panties, however Kyungsoo was too fast to notice your every move.

“I do not presume you tried to do this before.” he caught your naughty fingers. “Tell me the truth. Have you ever tried to touch yourself?”

“Oh, fuck off!” you preferred to die instead of answering his question. You could feel the heat on your cheeks, the only thing he had to do was taking a look at your face, and he did that. One look at you was enough to inform him.

He was going to never ever tell you this, but he was more than shocked when he understood you also did not touch yourself before.

“You cannot be serious…” you heard his shocked voice, you covered your face with your hands, he had to take them off your face.

“Isn’t it more precious now?” he pressed your hands on the mattress. “You have really made a mess of yourself without knowing a single thing.”

“Shut your damn mouth.” you were panting, embarrassed to death, but his gaze settled on you, he was really damn hard had him on the verge of shifting against the bed, he had to repress his own moans.

“I do not think so.” a shiver ran down your spine as his rich baritone filled your ears.

“You cannot say that!” you refused his words, trying to refill the air in your lungs.

“Does it turn you on,” he whispered to your ear. “Hearing me state the facts?”

You attempted to kick him, he laughed and grabbed your foot. Then, he pressed his lips to your swollen folds over the fabric of your panties, damn, your thighs clenched around his body. He continued to hold your wrists as your hips jerked beneath his mouth, had you growling from the back of your throat. He was driving you fucking insane.

“You wanted me to teach you.” he lifted his head, enough to make an eye contact with you. “This was how someone should touch you. You have to want relief desperately before their mouth land anywhere near here, they have to touch every inch of your skin, they have to unravel you.”

You were dripping after every word he said, you were registering to every sound he made, you were soaking and aching, your heart was beating against your ribs with a force you could not endure.

“However,” he slide your panties, enough to create a space for himself. “You do not have to think about others, because I do not intend to let you go.”

How could you describe your feelings when you heard those words? How could you tell him you could not stand it if anyone else would do the things he had been doing right now to you? You knew that you could not hand yourself over to anybody but Kyungsoo.

“Unless you want me to let you go.” He released your wrists, you immediately reached to his face, caressing his cheeks, your fingertips stroked his cheekbones.

“I do not think so.” you gave the same answer he gave you just a couple of minutes ago. “If it happens, it happens, but I am not going to seek anyone else.”

Your answer made him want to cry.

He swallowed hard, partially satisfied with your response, damn he would prefer to hear a certain answer without an open door, but he leaned into your touch before he pressed his lips in your palm.

“Good.” he guided your hands into his brown tuffs. “Now, I will say it again, but this is the last one. Tell me to stop if you do not like what I am going to do. You do not need to think if I will be offended or not, I will not.”

Your mouth watered in anticipation, you hummed.

“Words.” he bite your finger.

“Goddamnit, okey!” your eyebrows knitted together with unsatisfaction, but Kyungsoo knew that you were happy at the moment.

And Kyungsoo needed you to be happy as he was fucking tempted to turn you fucking stupid. He wanted to hear your voice, he wanted to give you reasons to imagine everything he could do to you, and he could let you to do him.

He wanted you to cry his name like a carol, until his name would be the only think you could say.

He knew that how he could make you feel good quickly, but he was not an idiot. To be honest, you were more than ready to cum, a few licks and strokes on the right places would finish you. However, Kyungsoo was not ready to let you, not before he could be certain you were going to always come back to him, not before the memories were eternally burned into his head, not before he could engrave his love into your heart, mind, and body.

He circled his tongue around your clit, very carefully. Every lick was fucking calculated, he wanted to hang you just there as he watched your face between your thighs, as he listened your blabbers. Seeing you like this was literally and figuratively so hard for him, however he had no intention to lose his chance with you.

He wanted you for himself. For the rest of his life. Even though he wanted nothing, but take you immediately, he could behave better.

“Goddamnit, please…” you whimpered like you were on the verge of crying. “I.. I want…”

“You want?” he mumbled, blown to your clit and teasing you with his tongue.

His thumb knocked against your bud, neglecting the spot where you craved for him, he just brushed your folds and bud lightly, you had been becoming louder. It was like a circle of pleasure and torture, you were squirming, clenching, and burning.

“Do you want to cum?” he asked fucking bluntly. You never think that Kyungsoo could be shameless like this, devilish at this level, logically you disliked his sudden cockiness but a really sick side of you, the side in the driver seat, found the wicked version of Kyungsoo fucking hot.

You nod your head at a rapid pace, making him chuckled.

“No baby girl.” he turned and hovered over your clit, securing your legs over his shoulder. “Not yet.”

You groaned with a sudden anger, but he shut your voice by sucking your swollen bud, he was growling inside of him when he felt your toes curled, he could not help but he was also grinding his hips into the mattress, your moans were stimulating him so fucking bad. His fingernails dig into your hips, as he held you in your place, but he started to moan too. Every vibration went straight to your clit.

You could not think.

You could not speak.

You have been dragged into a place of euphoria where you had no idea of its presence, however Kyungsoo fed your veins with nothing but pure pleasure. You could feel that the knot in your stomach has been tightening and heating, you were so close to your first orgasm. You could feel it. You could almost name it.

Kyungsoo let you go.

He pulled his mouth off your cunt entirely and lifted his head.

He trapped you on the edge of your fucking first orgasm of your entire life.

“Why?!” you panted, panicking, and looking at him, searching for any possible reason of this sudden cruelty. His face was burning too, his eyes were never blackened before, however your frustration was fucking obvious. “Why d-”

“You are not ready to cum yet.” he cut your plea off, his hands moved from your hips up to your waist.

“Soo, please…” you could not help but whimpered with irritation. Your voice was so bitter, even though you called him as Soo.

“You will.” he kissed your lips gently, carefully destroying everything you felt in your stomach. “When I let you.”

You could be burn, turn into the ashes in the blink of an eye, on this fucking bed, and could he still talk with fucking future tenses?!

You bite his upper lip, enough to irk him to let him know about how much annoyed you were. The corners of his lips went up, he dragged you towards himself and literally manhandled you over his lap, making you to straddle him.

Your eyes widened to their extend as you could feel every part of Kyungsoo while he supported his back with the pillows, while leaning on them.

You. could. feel. every. fucking. move. on. your. lady. parts.

You groaned, a mix of frustration and excitement.

Kyungsoo held your hips and making you grin onto his lap.

“Better, right?” he brushed his nose to yours.

Your lips parted and formed around a silent O-shape; your hands locked on his neck. He pressed on your hips, enough to make you move in a row, but very slow. You started to feel the knot in your stomach again, however, Kyungsoo was fucking slow, and he did not let you to move with your own pace.

Kyungsoo was almost losing his fucking sanity with every friction you cause while you were grinding on top of him. He knew that he had to slow you, otherwise, he was going to not survive. Your taste was still on his tongue, your voice was still on his ears, he could not survive.

“Kyungsoo, please.” you lost the count, you even did not remember how many times you whimpered, you moaned, you asked him to finish his torture. He was keeping you inside this insatiable mix of delight and exasperation, he was insisting to keep you on the edge.

“You can.” your face lit up after his words, but he quickly continued. “Only if can tell me how you should be touched.”

He added more pressure to your hips, wanting to highlight the importance of his words, and making your moves a little bit faster. The stars were dancing in front of your eyes, and he slipped his hand inside of your panties, adding more pressure to your clit.

“Come on, do you want to stay here for all night?”

Kyungsoo wanted to hear what your learned tonight from your mouth even more than relieving himself. His throbbing cock was not an issue to compare with your observations.

He wanted to learn if he could carve his image into your head or not.

And this was his one and only chance. He could not be sure if you were going to let him to do all of these again, even though he said that he never let you go.

He had to know.

“Because I can easily hold you here for the rest of your life.”

You shivered, but you felt like he really could hold you on the edge forever, and you were already a mess.

You gave the only answer you could give.

Very bottom of your heart.

As plain as fuck.

“You have to touch me.” you whispered.

Kyungsoo just looked at you, he was frozen after your answer.

“You are the only one I want.” you were plain as fuck. “I learned that I should be touched by you.”

[thecolordemon]

Short story: Belphegor kills MC

This is a angsty and sad short story about the MC during their dying process after Belphegor hurt them so bad...

⚠️❗Angst, Sadness, mentions of blood, wounds and death❗⚠️

Title: "I forgive you"

The nightly silence in the House of Lamentation was broken when Belphegor pushed you against a huge vase. The fragile object crashed to the ground and shattered into million pieces. The fragments on the black marble looked like spilled stars and there was a strange beauty in it. But you couln't care less about it right now because you couldn't breath. The marks which Belphegor's rough tail left on your sore throat just seconds ago were bright red and the sensitive skin was on fire.

You fell to the ground after your harsh collison with the vase and a painful gasp left your lips when the sharp shards burried themself deep inside your pink flesh. The pain was hot and jolted through your whole body like a lightning bolt. Crimson copper oozed from the many jagged wounds inside your palms and colored the floor like red rain. Your breath hitched in your throat and inhaling air was like swallowing knifes down your trachea. It felt like a hot blade sliced right through it and the pain made you feel nauseous.

Belphegors laugh ringed inside your ears from the room behind you. Sounding like a dark curse. "You humans really are foolish, idiotic, weak creatures, aren't you?" His evil snicker dripped from delight and you could hear his footsteps coming closer. "It's your own fault if you trust a demon. Don't blame me for your current situation, MC." His sing-sang voice scared you to death and you tried to crawl forward and away from the door. Away from the gates of hell... "That's all your fault."

But your hands couldn't carry your own weight and that's why you collapsed on the ground again. The adrenaline throbbed inside your ears and the sharps just pressed in further. Shakly you robbed forward and tried to get up on your knees. The fragments cut all through your clothes and left hurtful cuts all over your arms and legs. Some of them even sank into your kneecaps and made you cry out in pain.

Right at this moment Belphegor's long tail shot forward and wrapped itself around your left calf. All it needed was just one strong pull and you were on the ground again. Belphegor stood in the doorframe, all tall and drunk with power, when he dragged you over the black marble, over the the whole mess of broken glass and towards himself. He laughed like a maniac when the cutting continued and you cried because of the stinging pain. Being dragged all over the sharp shrads felt like you were being dragged over jagged gravel. Your legs already started to bruise from the impact before. The demon towered above you like a predator above it's prey and the sadistic grin on his lips bared his razor-sharp teeth.

"You smell delicious, you know that? Your blood really makes it even more fun." Now you laid right in front of his feet and his tightly wrapped tail cut of the blood supply to your leg. It already started to tingle and to feel weirdly numb. "Please-" you begged and the words stung in your throat, your voice being nothing more than a raspy whisper. "Please don't do this-"

"Oh MC, begging will get you nowhere." Belphegor kneeled down next you and grabbed your chin harshly. His dark, pointy nails burried themself inside your flushed cheeks and they drew blood. The smell of iron filled your nose and made your stomach twist with desperate protest. Tears watered in the corners of your eyes and dribbled over your flaming hot skin. Belphegor grinned and his rough tongue slid over your overheated flesh, catching all of the tears. He left sticky stripes of saliva on your right cheek and grinned even more when you crunched your nose in disgust.

"Who do you think you are to make such a face..." He licked over the red stains of blood that oozed down from your abused face. "You should be more grateful towards me, MC..." Suddenly his fist shot up and hit you violently on your right eye. You screamed in pain but he covered your mouth to shush the noise. He wanted to enjoy the show and he did not want to be interrupted too early. The hammering pain made you quiver and you were sure you heared some of your bones crack. You couldn't even see rigth with the eye anymore. Everything was a pounding, hurtful, black and red mess-you were pretty convinced that all the blood vessels in your right eye did burst because of the impact of his fist. But you were still losing tears.

Belphegor laughed louder as he examined your face closely. "Such a fragile creation! Useless! Utterly useless!" He laughed uncontrollably and his shoulders were shaking because it was so strong. His lilac eyes were those of a madman and he let go of your face with a painful twist of his wrist. His tail loosened a little bit and you were able to free your leg. You pulled yourself up but because of the lack of proper eyesight it was hard to keep a solid balance. Within mere seconds you grabbed one of the bigger shards and threw it at Belphegor. The demon flinched and dodged the thrown weapon which caused him to back away into the room from where he came.

Without looking back you stumbled away as fast as possible. The fear blinded you and all your nerves were on edge. You could hear him roaring viciously and staggered around the corner of the next floor. The pain was nearly taking over your body but you had to move further!

I can't give up- I can't- If I stop,I'll di--' Your legs gave in and you fell to the ground. The glass splinters pierced nerves and, muscles and caused your wounds to vomit even more blood. Like an hurt animal you crawled over the rough carpet beneath you. But you had to get up again-otherwise-

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT!!"

The blank anger in Belphegor's voice triggered you so much that you got up again. Fear can be a motivation-. You could feel a strange mixture of tears and something else dripping down from your abused eye and had to struggle with the feeling of throwing up. "-help-" you breathed out as you stumbled rashly along the never ending floor. "Somebody--help-" The beast was approaching. His thumbing steps were coming closer and closer within seconds. Furniture crashed behind you and a broken picture frame missed your head with mere inches/centimeters. You limped faster and wanted to scream but just as you opened your mouth, a heavy and powerful body smashed you to the ground.

You hit your head very hard on the black marble and again you heared a sickening cracking sound. You could feel something running down your neck, how something agglutinated your hair... You blinked dizzily and had a hard time to stay conscious. Your whole head was overwhelmed by the hot and dull throbbing pain and little black spots danced across your, already bad, vison. The heavy creature on top of you was growling dangerously and the monstrous shadow fell on your demolished features. It was hard to breath-

"I'll kill you, you know?" Belphegor's voice was a dark snarl and his teeth grazed the sensitive skin on your throat so carelessly that he drew more blood. "I'll will erase you from all the three realms and your soul will perish-" His hot breath made you sick and your weak attempts to push him away from you failed miserably. The power within you faded faster and faster... You wanted to say something but the words were like lava, heavy and gooey-You couldn't even understand them yourself.

"Don't you dare to look away MC! I want to see your eyes when their light fades away-" He laughed maniacally and grabbed your jaw violently. His nails dugged deep inside your chin and you could feel them claw over the bone beneath the skin. The hammering pain got more awful as his other hand slid to your hips to hold you in place. You tried to kick him away but your legs weren't listening to you anymore. His tail twitched threateningly above his head like a agressive snake and whipped through the air. It was hard to focus on anything else but the thickening atmosphere around both of you. The danger was so present, that it seemd like you could cut it with a knife. Belphegor hold your head in place with the other hand and his eyes glistened crazily and were glassy. It seemed like he wasn't there anymore...Like something overtook his body...

That wasn't the demon you knew-

"B-Belphie---pl-please-" you breathed. "Shh...don't waste your last breath, MC!" he replied happily. This was the biggest fun he had in years...He longed for this! "We were friends-" You could taste iron in your mouth. "Oh no. We never were friends. You're just a toy that I mobilized for my purposes." His lilac eyes pierced your dizzy vision and his long tongue curled in excitement. "I trusted you-" you whimpered. "Bad thing to do...Good bye, MC." And with this words he pierced your soft body with a harsh snap of his tail.

You wanted to scream but the only thing that left your lips was a sore whimper and a deep, aching breath of air. It felt like someone knocked the wind out of you and your lungs screamed in terror. Belphegor's tail was burried deep inside the pale flesh of your body and when he pulled out, he left a deep, bloody hole. Your heart went on a rampage and pumped the blood with all it's remaining energy through your veins. Calling out for help... It was like your heart was crying. It cried red tears of broken hopes and shattered promises, tears of despair and a lost love...

You didn't knew what hurt more...The fact that your life slowly faded away into the dark or the horrible reality that you've been so wrong about Belphie? Your hearbeat got weaker...you felt kinda cold and breathing in felt like inhaling razor-blades. "B-Belphie-" The demon above you frowned at your desperate whines. "Don't call me like that!" That was a thing only his twin was allowed to do, just him and nobody else! "You know nothing, you hear me? Your death means nothing to me! You're just like every other human being in this world."

Now, with your physical form broken, he tried to hurt you otherwise. And in a way more personal way. He was aiming for your psyche. He tried to break you in every possible way. He showed no mercy. He had no mercy. He was a wild beast driven mad by hatred and bad treatment. You winced and tried to calm your breath. "If-my death means nothing-then why are you-so eager to kill me anyway?" Belphegor blinked in confusion. "What's--the difference?-" You managed to look the avatar of Sloth right into his eyes. He stared at you like you insulted him. You could see his thoughts wild'n behind his head. He tried to find a valid reason. He tried to think of a justification why it would help him to kill you.

But there wasn't a valid reason. You helped him. He knew that. Without you he would be still stuck in the attic-locked away from the world like a caged animal. "Can't you see that you became the monster that Lucifer feared you could be?--" You coughed and spit blood all over your lips. Your breath lacked of power and the words sounded pretty slurry. "Shut up-I'm not a monster-" You interrupted his denial. "You are. -but that's okay--" You closed your eyes and hot tears poured over your lashes and cheeks.

You cried harder. "I forgive you-"

Belphegor's eyes widdened in shock and his fangs grew even sharper. Anger darkened his face like a dark cloud. "NO! YOU CAN'T FORGIVE ME! DON'T YOU DARE!" He grabbed your wrist and twisted it back in a sharp motion. Your bones cracked under his strong grip and you screamed in pain when he broke every single one of them. Your hand fell limp. Belphegor growled hatefully into your face. "You.won't.do.that!" His pupils were narrowed strongly and that made him look even more crazy.

This was his perfect moment, he wouldn't let you ruin it!

"You're nothing! A mere human like you does not have so much power over me! No one has! Your dumb and naive! Your dumb and naive if you think your stupid little words affect me!"

He was going insane. How could you not hate him?! How could you not beg for him to stop this torture?! Why were you still undermining his authority even though you were dying?!

You cried more and couldn't stop yourself from feeling sorry for the him. He was so lost in anger, so lost in his own mind that he lost all references to reality. "I forgive you, Belphie--"

"NO!" he roared and trew you across the whole floor. Again you hit your head hard but that didn't make such a big difference anymore. You were feeling awful anyway...

Belphegor kneeled on the floor, several metres away from you, crouched over and quivered like hell. His whole body shook from his jagged cries and his hands fisted into his bluish-grey strands of hair. His nails clawed over his face and left red stripes. He was fighting against himself, against the effects your words caused. It was like you put a spell on him and he tried to fight it off.

You were laying on your side and watched him apathetically. The blood colored the whole upper part of your uniform and stained the floor with it's red puddles. 'That's it...' you thought to yourself. 'It's going to be over soon...I am alone...'

That's when you heared a familiar sound.

Someone was talking-no...Lucifer was talking. You could here his voice growing louder as he came closer. He seemed to discuss something with Mammon. Powerlessly you rolled over to the other side, so that you could look down to the floor beneath you. You were lying on the balustrade on the second floor from which two stairs lead downstairs. Through the little pillars (that supported the railing)you were able to see Lucifer and Mammon coming closer. As you thought, they were busy with discussing something. Both of them totally clueless about the fight of life and death. That was your chance-

"L-Lucifer-" Saying his name was so exhausting... "M-Mammon-" They stopped right underneath the big chandelier but not because they heared your little pleas of help.

"-help-"

Lucifer spoke. "Mammon one last time, I'm not participating in your omnious bets. You'll lose all the money again because you do not learn from your failures." Mammon scoffed. "I'm not dumb, of course I learn!! It was just bad luck!"

You trembled and felt a strange cold approaching you. With your last ounce of strength you grabbed the railing with your good hand and pulled yourself up. It was hard and you had to balance your weight from one abused leg to another. Your body begged you to give in, to fall asleep-to give up-but your mind told you to keep on fighting. Now you were able to look down at Lucifer's raven hair and Mammon's white head. You were so close-

"Lu--cifer-m-mammon-"

One single drop of blood dripped from your chin and fell all the way down. You saw everything in slow motion. The little red drop brushed over Lucifer cheek and landed on his black shoulder pad. Mammon flinched and looked up. Lucifer did the same. When both their eyes land on you, you felt safe for a little moment.

Mammon smiled. "MC what--" He stopped right away when he noticed your terrible state of condition. His smile disappeared and turned into a shocked expression. All the color left his face and he looked like he saw a ghost. Lucifer's eyes widdened in shock, his mouth hung a little bit ajar.

Tears streamed down your face and the salty liquid mixed with blood and cold sweat. But you smiled powerlessly. They would help you-

"--thank yo-"

Suddenly something big appeared behind you. Before you could do anything else, claws digged deep inside your back and threw you over the railing. The next thing you remembered is that the whole room was rotating wildly. It all went so fast. You couldn't even scream. With a loud crash you fell to the hard ground.

Lucifer saw everything in slow motion. Your abused face, painted with dried blood and steamy tears, how hopefully your eyes lightened up when they noticed you, your broken hand which you pressed close to your body like a hurt little lamb...and Belphegor, his youngest brother, as he appeared behind you and hurled you over the balustrade like a doll.

Your fall was endless. But he couldn't do anything. But one thing was for sure. He would never forget the sound your body made when it crashed into the black marble ground. Your hair sprawled out around your head like a fading halo, sticky with blood and nearly all of your limbs were twisted in a sickenly wrong way.

Before Lucifer knew what to do, Mammon already started screaming in terror. "MC--NO--HELP!!!" He ran towards your body and crouched down beneath you. His screaming alerted the rest of his brothers and fast steps were coming from every direction. They all gasped in shock when they saw you laying there. You breath came in thin little gasps and you couldn't move. Everthing hurt so bad...at the same time you felt nothing at all. The crystal chandelier twinkled like a planet made of stars and mirrored your horrible reflection. You really looked awful...

That's you? The bloody mess with a smashed eye is supposed to be you?

Satan, Asmodeus, Leviathan and Beelzebub stared at you in shock. They couldn't move. They couldn't breath. They could just stare at you. Speechless. Hopeless. Clueless.

Lucifer fell to his knees and tried to stop the bleeding. He pulled his gloves off his hands and his long, slender fingers touched every cut, every bruise and every stab wound. "MC--stay with me-please-" His eyes were glassy with tears as he tried to heal the wounds but you already lost to much blood. Mammon sobbed. "MC--"

Belphegor stood on the balustrade and watched the whole thing going down. Pushing you over the edge seemed like the last possible thing to do. He watched how Lucifer failed to stop the bleeding and how your eyes wandered aimlessly over the ceiling. Your chest rose and lowered slower and slower with every passing second. Mammon cried loudly and hold you into his arms trying to protect you. "Dont do this MC-please-YOU CAN'T DIE!!"

Mammon's scream shook everyone to the core. You hiccuped blood and tried to say something but the red liquid drowned the words ruthlessly. Beel had to come forward and pulled his older brother to his chest. The big demon trembled and Mammon fought against his grip-screaming loudly and calling for help. But Beelzebub didn't let him go. He had to protect him. He had to protect MC-

Lucifer couldn't hold his tears back and he cried without any shame. "I'm so sorry MC--I'm trying b-but it's-it's not working--" Your eyes landed on his and he let out a shaky breath. You knew.

You knew you were going to die.

Lucifer embraced you in his arms and he pressed your fragile, abused body to his chest. "Please--someone--get Diavolo-he'll know what to do-he-" His voice broke as he lost his fight against the tears again. Diavolo was Lucifer's last hope--his only hope- After all he declared his loyal devotion to the demon prince. But he wasn't there. Diavolo wasn't there. And he wouldn't make it in time. Lucifer knew that. His brothers knew that. But it was impossible for him to just sit here and watch his beloved MC die in his arms-He had to do something, he-he is the oldest! He has to fix this, he has to find a solution, he-

"l-lucifer-"

His eyes shot back to you. You had lifted your good hand and managed to softly touch his cheek. Your fingers smeared blood all over his skin and the contact made him flinch. "-I'm sorry-" you whispered in a very thin voice. "I-should have-listened-to you-"

His hand found yours and Lucifer sobbed desperately. "MC-stop-don't say that-"

"it's--all my fault-" you explained with rasping breath. It was harder for you to focus your vison and big black spots interrupted the sight. You could feel your own life slipping through your fingers.

"-I'm-so grateful--for everything--you treated me like family-you welcomed me-I'll keep you in my heart-forever-"

Everything was going strangely numb...

You heared distant cries. They were from all the brothers. From all your beloved demons. You felt bad for leaving them. You felt bad for making them cry. You whished you could see them one more time.

Lucifer kissed your fingers softly and held onto you like his own life depended on it. His hands were shaky and he tried to keep his voice calm when he answered you.

"I love you-" he hiccuped and the tears streamed down without a stop.

Everthing was starting to black out.

You smiled sadly. "I--love you too--"

Your heart stopped.

"I---forgave---him---"

Your breathing stopped.

Your thoughts stopped.

Everything stopped.

Your hand fell to the ground. Lucifer could still feel your last touch lingering on his blood-smeared cheek. Time stopped.

And he screamed.

[yandere-wishes]

I think that belphegor would definitely torment a shy darling

Satan would tease a smart darling

Lucifer would just intimidate the living soul out of a shy darling

Mammon/levi/beel wouldn't even if they tried (ahem mammon)

Asmo would flirt with them

Simeon and Barbatos would encourage them

I am not sure about solomon but I think it's like satan

Diavolo is a mix between barbatos and lucifer : he encourages them but is scary

Belphegor is probably one of the worst brothers, if not, then the worst. He hates humans with a passion, wishes to kill them, massacre them, watch as life leaves their shiny eyes. But he can't do that to the new transfer student, doesn't want to risk being locked in the attic again. So he keeps himself in check, his torments are smaller, yet almost as painful. He all so loves to mess with the poor reader's head. Making them believe that every demon roaming these halls is out to get her. Promising that the way he pulls her hair and claws at her flesh when no one is looking is so much better than what the bother demon boys will do to her. Twisting poor MC's mind and body is such a sick pleasure for Belphie that he just can't stop. Plus as a bonus, he'll soon start "asking" the reader for a sort of payment for all the "protection" he offers her. At first, it's small things like bra and panty shots but it gets worst, WAY worst...

Santan is almost as bad as Belphie, if not then only slightly better. But take that with a grain of salt, he's still one of the worst demons at RAD. It's not that he has anything against the transfer student per se, but their a weaker life form prancing around like they own the place. Too blithe and aboveboard to actually realize all the mishaps that could happen to her. Surely if his teasing is discreet, kept only behind closed classroom doors and in the forgotten corner of dark hallways. Plus as long as the little human keeps her mouth shut Lucifer and Diavolo won't be able to trace it back to him. Plus what's a few scars and bite marks, she'll just borrow some powder from Asmo to cover it up. He's even more gleeful when he hears the reader crying herself to sleep each night. Asking over and over why it has to be her. Why the fourth eldest couldn't find someone else to torment.

Levi is honestly just as bad as his two other brothers. But he's shy and it takes a bit to coax him out of his shell. Or rather it takes something big and completely out of the reader's hands to drive the sea monster insane. Maybe he overhears the reader telling some other demon boys about her interest in anime and they actually ask questions about it and ask her to watch some episodes with them. Or maybe one of the brothers gives the reader a figurine that Levi has been dying to get. It really just boils down to MC and Levi having the same interests, but everyone being supportive of MC and actually find her anime obsession to be cute. So really not the reader's fault at all...but Levi is going to take immediate offense and with the amount of anime he's watched and the manga he's read you can be damn sure he has some tactics up his sleeve. He's not even subtle about it, he'll downright try to drown MC in the school pool and get her to beg him for forgiveness with lungs stuffed with water. And of course, she's expected to thank him when he decides to spare her miserable life. He's also big on blackmail, using some less than actuatable methods he learned from some more adult animes.

Lucifer probably wouldn't bother to bully anyone, only because it's too much work and he doesn't have the time. Also, there isn't much he gets out of it. Everyone is already scared of him both at home and in school, so he has to need to assert any form of dominance. But if the transfer student steps out of line, then maybe a bit of punishment is in order.

Honestly, I can't really see any of the other brothers bothering to bully MC. Mammon tries to be intimidating and fails. Asmo's a bit too friendly. Beel just doesn't know how to be mean. As for Diavolo and Barbatose, well they both have a reputation to uphold and don't want to offend the human realm just yet. Solome is probably more kind towards his fellow humans and might even help them stand up for themselves against the demon boys who do pick on her. Simon and Luke...well they're angles so not much there unless the reader was a demon. I can see them unintentionally picking on her in that case.